Biay babu, your appreciation, your depiction simply dry up the sea of my ink... every tress is a line of my poem or a string of my lute to generate a new music. Is there anything that transcends truth? If there be one, it is the smallest harmonic of life!! Thanks for your appreciation!!
kumarendramallick 13-Mar-2016 13:36 PM
You love me, just love me. Very symbolically, keeping it half-said, the poet says the things of his own, romancing and flirting with imagination and love and the shifting of tresses strike him so deeply that he longs for an expression, amorous and aesthetic. A marker of the tresses shifting and tumbling about and the golden locks glistening and the curls coming over sideways, Kumarendra here fails in and bowls out Alexander Pope and John Keats. Beauty is truth, truth beauty. See me but with love. Betray me not, cheat me not.
