Posted by: Ron DuBour | September 20, 2017

Ode to a Nameless Nightingale~by Saurabh Mishra



Ode to a Nameless Nightingale

I wonder when would I get to see you next,
It has been a week, more so, I guess,
Like flowers in the sun await the wind
And cold wind blows by the meadow
And in between all the stillness
The flower withers and wind becomes breeze

Would you become better if I waited on you?
Shall I perish for I am not eternal?
How long this week feels if you knew
Perhaps, you would come rushing back
There have passed a billion stars several times
And the seconds, oh forever frozen

There is a cuckoo on my foyer sitting
Always telling me you’re around the corner
And as I rush, the street thinks I’m a fool
The bicycles mock me, and dash by
And then there at the corner, my heart sinks
And I leave it there, in despair and wait

And then I look down from my window
Oh there go people, gaily back to the arms of their beloved
And I sit, I sit and I wait, in a frozen longing
Oh sweet embrace of your wanting eyes
Cars honk their horns, bees buzz and trees rustle
The only note missing is your sweet voice

The autumn, the spring, the winter and the summer
All feel the same, cheerless and silent
Though it has been just a week, perhaps, I guess
But I’ve lived seasons through it without you
And my work is not good, I have got a few proposals too
And you do not know, I’ve been having nightmares.


  1. Reblogged this on O LADO ESCURO DA LUA.

  2. Lovely 🙂

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.


%d bloggers like this: