
People of love and people of earth
Die, live in veil
For realities are distorted
in these disabled times.
A dawn that never came
For us to see
that we were brothers
Lost in rage
and insanity
And now walk without limbs.
As Jaffer sings
“A dawn will come
in my country
there will be peace
there will be love.”
“A dawn will come ,
In my country
when there will be
no blood shed ”
For, with every death
we confirm
that our blood is red.
and that,
this truth is sad.
So we choose
Ugliness
and lies that decompose.
They melt
in the same earth
in the same air
From dust to dust
From earth to earth.
We live, and die
And sing, and cry
The songs of love
For brothers we were
And brothers we shall be
Like a sufi kalam
We lose ourselves
Memories revolve in ecstasy
through the years
like white time.
As histories of sand
And histories of ink
eaten by moth
And other living things
Lay dead and decayed
Like stones
And stone dust.
From dust to dust
From earth to earth.
We live, and die
and sing, and cry
The songs of love
for brothers we were
And brothers we shall be.
Goirick Brahmachari lives in New Delhi, India. He hails from Silchar, Assam. His poems have appeared in North East Review, Nether, Pyrta Journal, Raedleaf Poetry, Coldnoon Quarterly and The Four Quarters Magazine.