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Romantic Sun
A swarm of black cloud as olive ,
engulfed the Sun .
Harmonious like a linnet ,
i wake up floating in the soft
silver melody of the moon .
The evening mail train went
to the abyss of the Rupnarayan river ,
in a secret invisible way from the bridge.
How many forms fell ,
pearls fell ,
the gods of the houses ,
the burning heart of the old stars .
The train left ,
the catkin flowers on the both sides ,
water lily , bunch of water hyacinth
are laying in solitude .
The crickets, beetles blow the whistle ,
the clouds were then
devouring the Sun by cutting
with a knife .
I gossiped and swallowed
the romantic Sun of the day .
© Dhruva