A Charcoal Drawing
- Deep from the Soul -
K. Radhakumar *
I remember drawing pictures of the family pets
When we were children
With pieces of charcoal or pencil;
We drew pictures of our pets,
Trees, birds, houses and
The distant hills shining brightly
In the reflected rays of the shining sun.
When the drawings were complete
We played a different game –
We looked at each other's
And squealed with delight.
We had small sheets of slate back then
In wooden frames to write on
And we learned the letters of the alphabet
With short sticks of slate-pencil.
Ah! How childlike enthusiasm flooded the world!
Not anymore now.
I am filled with nostalgia
For our primary school days.
Maybe the remembrance of the days induced me
Maybe it was childish of me
I tried to draw the picture of the setting sun
On a piece of paper with my pen.
There was not much to show
For all my efforts;
I must admit I made a real effort,
But it lacked soul.
The artist of a child
Who sang and danced
And greeted the rains by going out naked
When it came in June
Is finally dead and buried
And in his role of second childishness
Death is strangely tasteless.
* Poem written by K. Radhakumar which was published at Hueiyen Lanpao (English Edition)
This poem was posted on February 28, 2015.
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