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Sankhajit Bhattacharjee Poem 24

Scientific Research Fellow in University of Wisconsin, Milwaukee



The nectar of life,

the juice of living,

the sap of liveliness

have been dried up.

A dry desert exists everywhere-

from north to south, from west to east,

sucking also the center.

The buzzing bees forget the love of colorful flowers,

the melodious birds lose the voice of singing,

the wild animals leak their own sweat,

the human conscience is dried up,

the green world is turning into grey manuscripts.


The angel of July-August where are you?

Come, come to soothe the life, living and liveliness.

Your water is like honey-

it’ll provide consciousness to the dry hive.

You are the outcome of heat-

heat dries up water,

you pour it.

When the hive will come to exist

forgetting the conspiracy of dryness,

when her heart will beat...

In midst of drought I pray for rain.

© 2020 Sankhajit Bhattacharjee

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