The Clown of the circus - Samir Kumar Dutta || English poem || poetry || poems

 The Clown of the circus

        Samir Kumar Dutta

             

The terrible thoughts are as stolid as the galloping horses ,

He has to go back to that matter of long ago

Along the path of his memories—

The flashes of lightning from the malicious look,

The black clouds of hard times in the sky of fate

Left a dark night broken down into tears,

Even the fire - flies too didn't extend hands to help

By kindling light in such dark night as black as pitch,

The spiritless thoughts were lost in the shade of mind,

The ill- fated mind had been continuing to carry on

The memory of victory over all grieves.

Forgetting dialogues coming onto the arena of life

The Clown had remained silent,

The clappings from the dark audience had given him dishonour .

Overindulging in imagination he always 

keeps

Only smiles on his face

As if he were Charlie Chaplin.

Though he has sufferings in his mind 

Still he keeps it in his smiling face very cautiously.

Paints his face with colours to make up a clown

Weeping while laughing and no more laughing

He urges the sense of sympathy,

And laughing while weeping and no more weeping

He consoles to cause to forget sorrow and suffering,

This is the tremendous activities of his life.

Yet, it is a life

It's a life as it's heart survives, has dignity

But remains dead.

After all, the clown has never  been treated with honour.