Your dark eyes
Bear a splattered tear,
You look burdened
With some queer frenzy.
A history peeps through
The heavy lids
That your eyes lift,
And you lift the goblet
Of red wine.
I admire the way
And the guts
You hold against
The ferocious wind.
Smiling you serve
The wine and the kine
That I dare not take,
And pull the bone off flesh
Like a potato from the sauce.
Your measured steps
And the cadenced flow of arms
At the trumpet
Tells how quickly you have learnt
The art of survival.
You lift the coat,
Tie up the loosened knot,
Pick up the old countenance,
And bade farewell
So humbly
That reminds me of my Indian friends.
Harish k. Thakur
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-our-roma-host-serjo/
