Member Rara Avis
Mumbai, India : now in Belgium
Days, long warm, sunny and bright,
An evening breeze, cool, relaxed delight,
I sit on a park bench after a pleasurable walk,
The other side from a green bench, I heard lovers talk.
Children, elders and teenagers too,
Women, girls, young and old move,
Tilted rays dripping from the dusky sun,
Joggers enjoy their evening run.
Month of June, as I note it to be,
Had felt the day's heat at the back of my neck,
The breeze flowing had cooled me down, I felt free
From the shackled of yesterday's dark, cold wreck.
Winter stays long gone, into distant yesterday,
My mind took a flight, into the distance quite away,
Of my homeland, changing seasons, I could imagine the realm,
Thought, 'must be the start of rains', into warm belly of earth, spreading calm.
The most wondrous scent of the earth,
Lingering smell from first rains,
Nostrils stirred, sounds heard, felt home's warmth,
Ah! I miss my hometown, caused some pangs, a few pains.
Farmers, now, would be greeting the burst of cloud,
Their lands would be in a brilliant green shroud,
Planting rice, sowing seeds, with happy faces and cheer,
Thanking the Gods of rain, praising Lord's will that He is fair.
A sound of a child, a ball dropped by,
Back to the green park, and the evening sun,
I picked up the ball and threw it back to the boy,
Happy, satisfied, he continued toward the ball his run.
Soon, it was night, I stood up,
Mesmerised by the night's twinkling lights,
Time to go, to my room, I still had to climb four stairs up,
This summer day and its night offered me such lovely delights.
~~~~First spring, then summer~~~~
Hey you, out there in the cold,
Getting lonely, getting old, can you feel me?
Hey you, standing in the aisle,
With itchy feet and fading smile, can you feel me?
Hey you, don't help them to bury the light.
Don't give in without a fight.
Hey you, out there on your own,
Sitting naked by the phone, would you touch me?
Hey you, with your ear against the wall,
Waiting for someone to call out, would you touch me?
Hey you, would you help me to carry the stone?
Open your heart, I'm coming home....
by Roger Waters (Pink Floyd) - The Wall