The Death Of The Poor

Go Back   UNP > Poetry > Punjabi Poetry > English Poetry

UNP Register


Old 17-Oct-2010
The Death Of The Poor

It is death that consoles and allows us to live.
Alas! that life's end should be all of our hope;
It goes to our heads like a powerful drink,
And gives us the heart to walk into the dark;

Through storm and through snow, through the frost at our feet,
It's the pulsating beacon at limit of sight,
The illustrious inn* that's described in the book,
Where we'll sit ourselves down, and will eat and will sleep;

It's an Angel who holds in his magical grip
Our peace, and the gift of magnificent dreams,
And who makes up the bed of the poor and the bare;

It's the glory of gods, it's the mystical loft,
It's the purse of the poor and their true native land,
It's the porch looking out on mysterious skies!

Post New Thread  Reply

« The Death Of Lovers | The Desire To Paint »
Quick Register
User Name:
Human Verification