Caprice


Sarojani Naidu

You held a wild flower in your finger tips
Idly you pressed it into indifferent lips
Idly you tore its crimson leaves apart…
Alas! It was my heart.

You held a wine cup in your finger tips
Lightly you raised it to indifferent lips
Lightly you drunk and flung away the bowl…
Alas! It was my soul.

इस ब्लॉग से लोकप्रिय पोस्ट

वीणा-वादिनी वर दे

सेठ गोविंद दास: हिंदी को राजभाषा का दर्जा देने के बड़े पैरोकार

राही मासूम रजा की कविता 'वसीयत'