<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=391362" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Bangles</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">In festival seasons, <br>Miles walked bangle sellers<br>Tread the vennel unforgettable, <br>On feet, worn and torn, <br>With white clothe bundles, <br>Full of bangles and their lives, <br>On their heads wobble, <br>Whose calls village girls listen, <br>Break their clay pots, <br>In which they had collected coins, <br>And buy bangles<br>In hues and designs diverse.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Some unknown artists<br>Shaped the designs on bangles, <br>Who never came to the limelight, <br>Instead, wages collected<br>And withdrew in to silence.<br>Village girls put on bangles; <br>Always mesmerised beauty little pains out kept.<br>Jingling arms love CDs inserted<br>In to the heart-players of rustic guys, <br>Who always combed their hairs.<br>Girls keep and care the bangles, <br>Like virginity, till the nuptials.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Bracelet turns bracelets, <br>Often, after the wed locks.<br>Uncared…<br>Broken…<br>And discarded bangles: <br>“All Fate”, they say…yes! <br>In kitchens, a few scattered; <br>Into wells, a few thrown; <br>And, also, a few burnt in flames.<br>Unalloyed simple joys, <br>Experienced worn bangles, <br>Like virginity, left village girls.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Fabiyas+M+V">Fabiyas M V</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=391362" data-title="Bangles de Fabiyas M V" data-description="In festival seasons, Miles walked bangle sellers Tread the vennel unforgettable, On feet, worn and torn, With white clothe bundles, Full of bangles and their lives, On their heads wobble, Whose calls village girls listen, Break their clay p..."></div> </div> </div>

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