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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=577789" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The poem and her poet</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Death once told poor life defeated by life: <br>Life's no life if lived on the edge of knife, <br>No more a struggle, nor is full of strife, <br>Do ye know how many deaths is Death rife? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Death's all death; the same is not true of life, <br>Life tries to knot her up snaps when death's knife, <br>But I've heard a man asking on death bed, <br>Pray, tell me Death, how long ere I'm all dead? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">To him, said death, straightening up his head, <br>Moments might when look like minutes of dread, <br>Minutes stretch and stretch into hours, instead, <br>When hours take days, and days, years, you are dead.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Remember, life's lived moment to moment, <br>‘Tis measured too in a moving moment, <br>Forget not: Death alone is permanent, <br>I dwell in life from birth, live life dormant; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">There's no freedom in life, nor should death call, <br>Death changes but the bricks of prison wall, <br>All quarrels ‘tween life and death, big and small, <br>Settled are, death when proves him far too tall.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Life is a small piece, but a paragraph<br>Of my poem, said Death, metre nor measure but in half, <br>Life may decide every new beginning, <br>But ‘tis me that knows the length, knows ending.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Eons pass sans measure for endless time, <br>While no clocks tick, nor dare their hours to chime, <br>Boulders of rocks break down whilst time stands still, <br>O grinding into grains of sands sans will.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">While life is stuck with my poem's first rhyme, <br>Death challenged life to dare the worst she can, <br>I'm the Absolute trouser wearing man1, <br>I wonder how relative would tick time! <br>_____________________________________________ ___________<br>1. Death muses himself to be the male principle, the purusha. <br> The poem stands for life and prakriti. The piece here depicts<br> a dialogue between Life, or the matter, the poem and her <br> creator poet, the Death. In Indic philosophy, purusha is the <br> presiding deity, the atman or soul, which is eternal and body <br> is made of prakriti, the material nature, which is death-bound. <br>_____________________________________________ __________________ <br> - Musings | 12.08.12 |</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Aniruddha+Pathak">Aniruddha Pathak</a><div class=q>
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<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=577789" data-title="The poem and her poet de Aniruddha Pathak" data-description="Death once told poor life defeated by life: 
Life's no life if lived on the edge of knife, 
No more a struggle, nor is full of strife, 
Do ye know how many deaths is Death rife? 

Death's all death; the same is not true of life, 
Life tries to kno..."></div>
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