There is a place
much fabled
In awe I heard
of it and listened in rapt attention
Poets of long lost civilizations and scholar from faraway lands
With harps melodious touched mayhap sang in praise Of a place almost lost in the annals of mankind
Long before men
reddened the soil with their blood
Long before
mothers wailed in sorrows for Sons and daughters lost in battles
Long before
mankind was baffled with legions of gods and goddesses
Who fought for
supremacy and their wars passed down to man.
Elysian it may
have been fondly whispered and sung.
I know not if
such a place really exists in man's sorrow-riddled existence
The gods are not
for me or their deprivations
I would rather
want an Elysian that is both human and divine
Paradical but
earthly in essence where one is a god but also human
A place where
every day is worth living
A place where
every pain is pleasure
Where pieces of
life offered to a mortal have their sweet bitterness retained
Where happiness
has their flavors retained
Are not such
things the gods are deprived off?
O Hmarram, O Hmarram,
My Hmarram of yore
From where art
thou created and thou conceived?
A place that is
both human and divine
Where the odds
of life are taken in jest
Where the grandeur
of cloud-covered hills
Faerie valleys,
nestled between lush green woods
Meets and
cavorts in joyous abandonment and harmony
Where
the sons of Manmasi meet and their culture in unison boil
Where
the sons of Miachal and Niachal rebuild in optimism.
O Hmarram, My Hmarram
of yore
Can anyone
envisage the beauty of your youth?
Certainly a
jewel in the eyes of men and gods!
Amidst great
clouds of men-borne war, strife and miseries
You have been
shamelessly stripped off your dignity
But persevere to
flourish
Your alluring
beauty endures
And bless in
bountiful magnanimosity
The sons of Manmasi
who scant do you honor.
Immanuel Zarzosang
Varte
Imphal
17th June
2014
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