The verse that comes out of the womb of love, though tender, is better

And if my verses are so born might catch honour

And if better is my lines- I think my sweaty labour is not in vain

The present world may not appreciate my bony lines

Let spring follow winter, let day follow night.

Time would pass, men and critics would die

Many would take birth with better eyes to see

And if they find something grand in my petty lines

They would wonder and say- what a mighty feeling is overlooked!

My Lovelia, if then they wish to bestow praise

All would go to thee as it is thy love and thy cruelty 

That turns me to a poet  

And for whose lines all gathered praises must go to thee. 0 0 0

(This poem ‘Lovelia-57’ originally belongs to the poetry book entitled Lovelia, a sequence of love poems by Menonim Menonimus)


Related Search:

 Some Poetry Books by Menonim Menonimus





Posted in Menonimus Poems.

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