A FALLEN FLOWER
PROF. V. GOPINATH
Man never tries to learn
The anguish of a fallen flower:
Alas! he never can grasp
The sorrow of the petals falling.
Even the poet of yore who sang
of the bird pierced by the shaft.
Never bothered he of nature
And her thousand wails of grief.
All around you flowers fall
Almost every hour, every day:
But man heedeth not, he passes
on and on, unheeding and unfeeling.
Oh! man can’t weep If he wilt.
Nay, he shrouds his grief in laughter,
Loud laughter that conceals
Many a woe and plaintive wailing.
Meanwhile, the flower gathers dust.
It disintegrates, becomes one with earth
Ah! Is man’s lot different from this?
“From dust Thou art and unto dust Thou returneth!”