It might be a pretty gift I won
The wrath of storm might seek itself a mind
A petty grace might be a beauty itself alone
The storm might be more temperate and kind.
I alone in the sun stood to obtain
Breath in free air, but all in vain.
More to see the sun peep through cloud
Or the rivulet dance on flickering mood
I stood-I stood; but a call, loud
In reverse from them became a dupe.
Her divine wrath, a divine beauty was in refuse
But my wrath I could hardly defuse.
In surging silence of atmosphere, I
More to see the retreating earth stop
Stopped, caring little about her; or her to defy
I took the role of Alien, ever atop.
In return of her, there although none to tease
All Kashful beside me stopped dancing in breeze.
How far her should I realize, if I could
Little I know; but realization the sun gave in return
Yet I glued to the scene, and did little I should.
All in vain, oh! , I say 'twas better turn
Before the sun went behind curtain
Before I subdued my pain in pain.
Little more or petty less I could travel in diverge
Among the Kashful, beside the rivulet
But all in dignity the death returned to my verse
And the world all above turned fever and fret
Now I churn the moments I lost
Are all nothing but visible ghost.
Today in return the day come again
The rivulet flow fast, Kashful dance I see
Petty much its better than that day of rain
Petty much vile never it'll be.
Now I see over head the sun beam
Though the day I lost a dream within a dream.
Pijush Biswas
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-lost-a-dream-within-a-dream/
