Poems
THEME/S
In a deep dusk between the known
Day and the night which broods alone,
There moves—with primrose-sparkles thrown
Across—the shady-pat led beyond
Of a superhuman demi -monde.
That wayward mystery we outcast.
Deeming its free heart-flame too fast,
Too wandering and too multiform:
We love the mind's clear-bodied norm
And not this wile of d stant hue
Across a shimmer of rectar-dew—
Strange lure of the untamable,
Soliciting our lips to cease
Their oaths of rigid loyalties
And mutely summoning us to break
Out of the marriage of thought and speech
Towards the thought no word can reach,
No cry of intellect overtake,
But just the heart's wide discontent
Catches in a sudden throb and thrill!
The demi-monde of the half-divine
Is a wondrous weakness of the will,
Striving for a vague firmament,
Letting the tangible earth far-fall.
It offers but a fickle shine
Of raptures never thine or mine,
Dim ecstasies that are conjoint,
Each moment a new magic mood
Of piercing brief beatitude,
Infinity's touch by paradise-point,
Giving its miracle to all
Who pay the passionate pangful price
Of near things precious in our eyes—
Self-pride, wealth-hoard, home-life, world-fame.
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But, save through the soul's demi-monde
Where time is stripped of every shame
Of being drunk wit 1 the unseen voice
Of some eternal liberty,
There never can be a true bond
Between earth's shallow wakeful joys
And high Perfection's stellar poise
Of measureless secrecy above.
The extremes are drawn close only by
This Venus-lit homonry,
This dream-dusk of unfettered love!
12.6.48
Page 299
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Amal Kiran
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