Friday, March 23, 2012


Evening comes with long shadows,
And smells of jasmine buds;
Are those lights on the distant hills?
Or only the first shimmering stars?
The darkening woods resound
With restless nest-bound birds;
The wind blows, crickets chirp,
And then there is silence.

The philosophers will tell you
There’s nothing quite perfect.
Contentment has a twin
And you will suffer alone.
But on clear starlit evenings
Happiness speaks clearly
To lonely souls who understand
The language of silence.

Diptesh Ghosh

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