Tuesday, November 13, 2012


Winter morning:

Even the birds are sleeping.

Cold and silent, frosty,

And this gray fog;

I think of the great silences:

The vast dusty libraries,

And lonely roads after dusk,

The unsaid words,

Things the Heart will never express,

And the forever stilled lips

Of the newly dead;

And then, somehow,

I think of you

Somewhere in this wide world,

And me drifting alone:

I am a lost stranger

In the busy cross roads,

Voiceless among the million

Strangers in the towering city;

I am a star, among the countless stars,

Frozen in a dark universe,

Utterly silent, oblivious

To the babble of the planets.

Diptesh Ghosh

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