(I saw my tears rippling down in the streams
I found all my pains dancing in my dreams)
(1)
In a white uncrumpled paper, I would
I could do so before, my stumbling mood
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The golden streaks and luminous fragments of evening But I couldn’t capture to get something a little simmering amitav mazumdar.. The struggle of a poet when he engages himself in writing. dear poet you have excellently brought to life this struggle. thank you very much. tony
The golden streaks and luminous fragments of evening But I couldn’t capture to get something a little simmering very fine poem.. you have actually described the pain when you as a poet are not able to scribble what is in your mind, and what wells up in your consciousness, very fine poem thank you