Poetry is rhythmic flow of intense feelings and thoughts


Written By: Mohanchand
Winter it was in Berlin.
No light in day nor blue in sky
Creamy climate like soft bread.

I look from my window:
Yonder there a circus ring was formed,
A circle cut by winter’s teeth.
In no time ten horses hoofed out of mist,
Unruffled mane. No movement in pace.
But I saw them filling the void
Like an inferno.
Pure and perfect, bright and brilliant
Like angels.

Their bodies: smooth and magnificent,
Their manes: pounding surfs in dream
Their hinds: round like a globe.
Majestically towering necks.
Red eyes: staring like a restless serf.

There. In the stillness of that noon.
In that lousy and yawning winter
These majestic horses danced like a burning spirit.

I gazed at them again and again,
I got up.
It was a spring, a golden dance.
A gushing out beauty!
A beautiful cool fire!

I have forgotten that lightless day, blueless sky.
But not the blazing charm of those horses.
(This is based on German poem)
© Copyright 2011. All Rights Reserved


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