Thursday, November 14, 2013


On summer nights, when the wind blows

I go to sleep, sprawled on the roof,

Watching the stars and constellations

With an old book lying next to me

On the white sheet, jasmine-scented;

My troubles lie earthward, with me.

But how far are the stars, how silent!


Beyond the tidy sleeping houses

A homeless man, lying in the park,

Keeps an eye out for the touring cops;

He hears the wind in the Neem leaves;

An abandoned dog has made his home

Among the waste-bins on my doorstep;

He too hears the rustling wind

As it washes over the silent night;


In our sleeplessness we are alike.

Our eyes are set on the heavens:

Like the wind we are of this earth

But our hearts are stuck on the stars.


Diptesh Ghosh


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