On the old manure earth, the seeds germinate, <br />On the old progressive thoughts, the new ideas develop, <br />Thousands of spores that burst into new green ferns, <br />That cover the flaws, shine as the shields of the mushrooms, <br />The joyous sight when go through the virgin lands, <br />The springs are clean and the rivers are cold, <br />Don’t touch them to be spoiled to dissipate your heat, <br />The time has gone in every other unreachable object, <br />Where nothing is left to show that someone had done, <br />Roof less coliseums, in which young gathered to be thrilled, <br />Their hearts were filled with fragrance of roses, <br />As the houses of ancient cities have the statues of flowers, <br />The human strike a pose hiding the most attractive parts, <br />The paintings in the caves show the eagerness of human, <br />The fossils are strewn everywhere on this living planet, <br />Where the organics manage to grow to be the young, <br />Forget the old; they are too contented, once, now regretful, <br />No revenue to pay to be born on the mineral planet, <br />Once born, our hands are tied, mouth is gagged, <br />Paths are paved for us to walk, monotonous minutes, <br />The time flies as the vulture, snatching all our pleasures, <br />Our hearts are branded to seek the value added tortures, <br />Time exists but does not stand still for a second, <br />To prolong the ecstasy that nerves teach and preach, <br />For everyone who have the comfort or live in dirt, <br />This moment is not permanent to be sad and weak, <br />This moment of despair may vanish and disappear, <br />No magic wand needed, only the time has to go.<br /><br />veeraiyah subbulakshmi<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-times-of-hearts/
