Sonnet: The River

Without the River-water, can men live?
It satisfies man's thirst and helps crops grow;
To keep it pure for long, let man thought give;
Alas! 'Tis polluted in ways galore.

Carcasses, corpses, stay afloat on it;
Men bathe their body's dirt and empty sins:
Their 'sacred-ashes' are immersed by bit;
They wash their dirty linen and then rinse.

But why allow effluents to pollute?
Dead flora and fauna and excrement;
The River bears the ignominy brute,
It floods or dries in weather inclement.

0 sacred River, bear with men insane,
Who ages still profane thee without gain.

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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