Why is his blood so hot? They ask, And I tell them – That you were orphaned by circumstances That you were deserted by the mountains That your words collide with time’s tide. At times my blood boils too But it does not turn my forehead red, Nor does it drive by passion mad. But the same (...) > continue
The fading mirage, The offspring of those poor and clandestine tribes, Amidst the great mountains and flowing rivers, Draws from her meagre store of adjectives To lift up their much envied voices singing, That sounds like chains of gleaming golden coins. More precious than the golden (...) > continue