Mother
When I utter
'Ma' or 'mother',
My lips press each other.
It reminds me those sacred kisses
That would demand nothing in return.
'Ma' or 'mother',
My lips press each other.
It reminds me those sacred kisses
That would demand nothing in return.
Liberty
How happy those days were
When I would feel liberty and
profound peace, though chained
With shackles of my mother's arms!
When I would feel liberty and
profound peace, though chained
With shackles of my mother's arms!
Partha Chatterjee
Partha Chatterjee lives in India with his family. Born
in 1986 he graduated from burdwan university. He loves music and poetry.
Tags:
Poetry