Three Quatrains by Shamik
Death is a river whose marge I do not know, yet, thoughts of it, bring me the least fright; but before I am summoned at its row, I must humanely exercise my light. Birth is a river whose source I do not know, but, its bays and streamlets I sail with fright; for they await with suprises of woe that rock my boat before it has found its light. But, of these very powers of the twain, I bother not if the waves shatter me; but mourn I will for this boat, the oars and the main, who keep here as my only company.
Shamik Banerjee is a poet and poetry reviewer from the North-Eastern belt of India. He loves taking long strolls and spending time with his family. His deep affection for Solitude and Poetry provides him happiness.
