Thursday, November 14, 2013


As it reaches the sea

The river overflows the banks:

It is so full, so deep,

That it almost seems to pause;


The little mountain stream

Knows no such fulfillment:

It is a silver line

In the furrows of the great rocks;

It cuts across the boulders

Past meadows yellow with daisies

Splashing and brimming with its joy;

It is so small

And the sea is so far away.


Perhaps reaching the sea is immaterial.

The point is to have a dream:

To yearn for beautiful things

Distant though they be;


Diptesh Ghosh


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