The Death of Angiras—an Obituary

His eyes were perfect, but like a blind star

He walked through the long night when were asleep

The skilled gods of time, and the guards who keep

Vigil on swift things, in the lands that are

Priceless and precious, stretching wide and far;

In those realms of gold he saw a huge heap

Of papers and, rather with a snarly leap,

Took hold of them, wonders that had no scar.

One by one all the missed commas were found

And many a word looked quite dubious;

The poet had lost his sense, in a voice bold

He declared to the sleepy world. What ground…?

But the sudden hand of death, furious,

Took away his soul ere it could be sold.

RY Deshpande

17 April 2009