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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=579603" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>This September</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">This September I have turned yellow and seventy</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The sky's translucence no longer mystifies</div><div style="margin:10px 0">By holding out hazy undefined amber promises</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This air is still crisp and there is promise of</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Excitement on the leafy floor of the forest</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As the mongoose scurries among the yellow leaves</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Tens of thousands of zany butterflies of many hues</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Have burst out of the bushes on the Tirumala hills</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Striking the stunned panes of the passing cars.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> </div><div style="margin:10px 0">At night I open the window with rusty hinges</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To feel the September draught resurrecting</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The archived sensations of my withered skin</div><div style="margin:10px 0">These limbs feel cheated of pleasurable walks</div><div style="margin:10px 0">On dirt tracks lined with fragrant ketaki bushes</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There is now not even fear churning in the belly</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The creaking bones, powdery and forgetful, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Cry out in sorrowful unison waiting for deliverance</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My senile mind, at times agile, refuses to sleep</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Unable to muffle the burst of the creative voice</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My sonorous monologues have no listeners.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I sleep fitfully and dream of the beyond</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Of what lay beyond the Sahyadri mountains</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Of the gusts of howling wind passing through</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The swaying red sandalwood trees on the other side<br>And of the myriad mountain streams pouring</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In steady trickles into innumerable check-dams</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I think of death, the beginning of the tunnel</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Not knowing where and when I would emerge</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am at times afraid of the all-enveloping darkness</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Darkness closing in slowly amid the staccato cries</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Of noisy crickets from invisible crevices.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I turn to my left and go back to self-obliterating sleep</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It is only when I lie supine that I get my nightmares.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Jagannath+rao+Adukuri">Jagannath rao Adukuri</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=579603" data-title="This September de Jagannath rao Adukuri" data-description="This September I have turned yellow and seventy

The sky's translucence no longer mystifies

By holding out hazy undefined amber promises

This air is still crisp and there is promise of

Excitement on the leafy floor of the forest

As the mongoos..."></div>
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