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Poetry

If Nature were a Woman and spring her youth, She'd cry for a Flower and die of sloth.

Moon

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by Sardaarji

by Sardaarji

Moon

I saw the moon tonight and thought,

How nice he would've been living,

No bird could've pecked him no moth

Could sip the Fire of his breathing.

I would've sang alone and he

Would've followed in midnight

Till shadow dimmed down the Gully,

And sun rose slow from Dewsight.

It's good that moon is a rock,

And is tainted by tint of tar.

Been better if his heart could talk,

But his stone heart is better for-

If Moon had lived and Night his Wake,

He'd sip some Rum and sink in a Lake.