Friday, June 02, 2006

The Real Man's Sonnet

I am a hunter, my Lord,
Crouching amid the leaves;
Make me not the timid man
Who lack of riches grieves.
I live by my wooden bow,
A quiver and some aim;
Give me not a life of woe
And chasing lifeless game.
I know when the clouds will rain
And when the fruits are sweet;
Teach me not a lot of what
Others as knowledge treat.

Make me brave, give me love and teach me mortal grace
So i may, in my friends' hearts, find my rightful place.

5 Comments:

At 4:19 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

beautiful again...n its beauty lies in its simplicity :)
may u find all of this n more

 
At 4:44 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Don't worry about the last line....that will happen anyways for the kind of person u are. Well written and expressed !

 
At 6:41 AM, Blogger abhaya said...

Nice one parth !

 
At 8:59 AM, Blogger herenow said...

lovely.

 
At 1:52 AM, Blogger FreeBirdie said...

nice one. liked it..

 

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