Alone short poem

as the dawn breaks through the skies
and through the clouds,
somewhere a flower wakes up,
somewhere a bird calls
and calls, in some house,
a mother sings, raising the children and gods,
the boys and girls stand everywhere,
brushing, dreaming the broken dreams,
the newspapers come flying into houses,
smeared with blood,

but there stand a tree
on top of a hill that i know,
alone with its branches.

as the sun stares down from its throne,
as the clocks strike and strike,
as the dogs look longingly at bitches,
as the women walk around houses naked,
as the men return home, secretively,
to make love in a stream of sweat,
as the foolish birds fall from the sky,
as the wise frogs go to sleep,

there stands a tree
on top of a hill that i know,
alone with its roots.

as the sun slows down its horses
and sinks into the sea,
great secrets travel between mouths,
men become truthful, and talk about
breasts and buttocks, women tell each other

the thousand horrible and magnificent things
that happen from day to day,
the wind, the wind that carries in its breath,
the smell of the world,
the mountains, the mountains that begin to confess,
the statues, the statues that begin to smile,

but there stands a tree
on top of a hill that i know,
alone with its shadows.

as the sun sleeps in the bed of the sea,
as the fishes sleep,
as the beggars sleep,
as the horses sleep,
as the houses sleep,
as the gods sleep,
as the soldiers sleep,
as the lovers sleep,

there stands a tree
on top of a hill that i know,
alone with its loneliness.

This poem is part of the Poetry Book Oblivion

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Balaji Gopalan

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I owe all of my poetry to the influence of Pablo Neruda. Reading him 10 years ago on the beaches of Goa, gave me the permission to be who I am and write what I feel. My poetry has never been the same after that. All that I write is an offering to Neruda.
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