Poetry

This Meadow Shan’t be Silent: Jibanananda Das

This meadow shan’t be silent then, I know
Beneath the stars, this stream
Will still dream
Does this world ever tire of dreams of gold?
Because I’ll be gone
Will the wild flowers not be soaked in dew
In soft-smelling waves?
Will the owl no longer sing for its goddess ?
Does this world ever tire of dreams of gold?

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