Poet Soumendra Dutta Bhowmick's. One poem
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IN A HIGH ALTITUDE
Golden purity and simplicity-the twine ornaments
Invaluable are dying in the stage!
Our days, Our Lives are moving and roaring
In a limited space of a cage.
Who is the rescuer? Who is the Curer?
Thy ashamed face still not found,
Come, Come, Come hoist your holy flag
And the languished thirsty we all will take
From ye lively sacred water.
Our prayer, Our intention to survive on
As a prime creature truly on this earth,
Thou-the angel fulfilling our cherished dreams
For achieving the success of our birth.
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