Every province and kingdom
under heaven fronting on
the Great Wall,
no city has avoided shield and sword.
Why can’t the weapons be cast into ploughshares,
and every inch of abandoned field tilled by oxen?
Tilled by oxen,
spun by silkworms:
don’t condemn heroes to weep like heavy rains,
leave men to grain,
women to silk—let us go in song again.
~ Tu Fu [768-770 A.D.] (The selected Poems of Tu Fu)
Translated by David Hinton
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Nehal
I usually write in my mother tongue Gujarati and sometimes in Hindi and English.
Nehal’s world is at the crossroads of my inner and outer worlds, hope you like the journey…
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