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Few poems by Hemraj Bastola


Humans will then be wise
only when learns a mistake.

Havoc had left
it's beleaguered towns
into the myths.

to be alive
hundreds of year it takes
furious power too blind
had left it's reason deaf
without knowing it's

Civilization sunk
Babylon is burning
like fiery flames of Trojan
pulchritude of Helen for
As Dr. Faustus sell;

Carcass too cold
with it's beauty sleep
cure thy brain O people
ashes in doubt speak
can I be the bird


to dine in a book
they slay.

carcass of the words
life awakens
in it's death.

are now turn to be.


room to the night
when day bids farewell
her apple blossom
to it's pulchritude
speaks in

to the landscape
winter pessimism chasing,
bird soars on the sky above
happy moments spreading
where budding plants
are germinating
a new life into
her rosemary.


Winter smiles when
life weeps in pain,
spring blooms to new
winter bleeds in grief
slumbering tree awakens
in every death of cold.
And creation of a existing passion
from the heart speaks
a message: Battle
of a bilateral nature
satisfies me as I see the night
is a dare need
of a day.

Untitled ( about the current Nepal)

Baker who is waiting to bake
But, no one is going to make
Undress your eyes to look at
Justice bleeds in the mockery of hate.

Wind sweeps to clean the land
And land, waiting for the rain stand
I am tired of listening the heads
Where, speech pretends for the bread.

Was that thunder only to awake
Or had given to change a shake
Country pleads in justice to believe
But what have we done to give.

Barren land is hungry for the seed
Can we put an end to the need

In making a choice

Muteness is vast to identify
it's easy to acknowledge the noise
likewise I am divided with
spangled thoughts of anxiety
and in dilemma of human existence,
dynamic sticky web of society where,
a human is glued to be on the center.
Thought to preserve in honor to live,
interest me much is to put
it's beauty in craft.

Forging into
the fiery hearth of emotion
fusing words to give a shape
into it's solitary form.
would not it be fair?
in search of a home
to be out of time
in it's freedom.

Selection of a man
that screens on a life
if we forget an artist,
can we forget his art?

A note from a rainy day

This leather bag
I am trying to protect
from to be wet on the rain,
for I wish is my
home coming

Fare welling
tunes of time that speak,
consoling to the bare trees.
Sprouting buds and the brooding nest
to that weeping heaven ask:
Can not this rain be transformed?
into the vapours of a life
as the dawn of spring
when says good bye
to the frozen path.

did I put forth
to this enlightened earth
an eye to view?

An evasive heart

Sickness of his
involuntary pain
requesting with her soul:
had we planted to ruin the seed?
or won't you let me harvest
the crop that I desire for.

Why, the gift
to be a mother
you do not want to utilize,
Wishing even I never can be.
So, how can I be agree
to lose an unseen child
growing inside you.

Forgive me to say;
evacuating that womb,
would you be happy as a mother?
if your breast remain
unsucked by the child.

whom would you show,
that your motherly love?
by mistake if thy baby sack
unoccupied remain
losing it's fertility

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