The 'upsara' couldn't break the sage's prayer
With raunchy roars of her seductive anklets;
And thunders of a thousand drums did founder
To breach the soundproof ears of the demon's silence.
But the drop of a pin blows me into dust
Once gets sunk into quietude mind and body;
Sundry cants, quarrels, curses hard do burst
My head with Netherly cacophony.
And guilts and failures of my own combined
With shouts of greed from morning sun to streetlight
Do batter me, as eerie moans of wind
And canines chill the spine at dead of night.
Grows the noise of silence by the moment
Through my patienceless search for a restful quiet.
- N. P. SAMAL
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