Manjunath E-Book

Anwer Ghani

• Herausgeber: BookRix
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

Here are poems and artworks by Anwer Ghani inspired by Manjunath style in life, the Indian wanderer who has known the deepened human relationship with nature and who says:

We are not strangers...

Nobody understands the reason... Why we all meet in this life's journey... We may not be related by blood... We may not know each other from the start... But Nature puts us together to be wonderful RELATIONS by heart...

Leseprobe

Anwer Ghani

Manjunath

The Wanderer

BookRix GmbH & Co. KG81371 Munich

Preface

Here are poems and artworks by Anwer Ghani inspired by Manjunath style in life, the Indian wanderer who has known the deepened human relationship with nature and who says:

We are not strangers...

Nobody understands the reason... Why we all meet in this life's journey... We may not be related by blood... We may not know each other from the start... But Nature puts us together to be wonderful RELATIONS by heart...

The Poems

MANJUNATH; THE NATURE’S SON

These are new leaves, beautiful leaves; their eyes shine in the river, and their braids swim in the wind. They come from the east, so their hands are not yellow, but green like the grass smiles, and their cheeks are not pale but pink like the sparkle of Koreans. Leaves and flowers are the daughters of nature that touch our windows every morning coming from the east, from the sun, so we call them solar girls. Yes, the east is old, but its flowers are young and soft. They are beautiful and attractive, I mean, very attractive. I feel their love, I see their joyfulness, I believe in their breeze. Their smiles are very charming and amazing like the arts of the nature’s son; Manjunath whose true cosmic spirit jumps between the jungles like forest birds. Here, I celebrate the soft and delicate side of our soul where every wonderful story can be planted. I celebrate nature and its righteous son; Manjunath.

MANJUNATH AND THE GREAT TREE

One day he sat under the shade of a tree there. She stole him, and flew him to her original homeland; to a planet with green hearts. There, the weddings, perfumes, vehicles and horses, even celebrities and birds are shining. He was skilled at collecting sunlight and silk threads, and he was telling me about the river and the great tree; what a strange purity. He told me: The word is like a great tree, it must be pure, it should be right, white, overflowing with the love of others.

MANJUNATH IN A FIELD SINGS

On a very windy day, you can see all the deep colors and bare dreamland. With it, you can cross the sailor of sound, as magical fields sing its songs, and there you find Manjunath among the blossoms of grass, his eyes closed. On a very quiet day, you can warmly welcome secret spirits. And you can wave your hand to the bright sun over there; over that field that sings, and you see Manjunath in the middle of the field looking at the field song, hoping it never ends and looks at the sun, hoping it never sets.

MANJUNATH AND THE HANGING BOUGHS

Between the hands of the hanging boughs, Manjunath sits as a traveler dancing on the green carpet with the breeze. At the wet mirror of the small leaves and a strange sweetness, the traveler caresses it. As a delicious childhood, I loved the dark green color. The birds there sing their crunchy tones, and penetrate the dreaming time. There, toward the hanging branches and toward the wet leaves, there are birds playing, and sleeping butterflies their clothes were soaked with the evening. How captivating the hymns of branches with bright eyes and birds chant an amazing charm. I love the scent of a wet summer, and the hanging boughs sing the breeze.

MANJUNATH

Concrete poem

WE ARE NOT STRANGERS

Concrete poem

MANJUNATH’S BIRDS

I still love the color of the wild and its exotic birds which make you feel like a feather in the wind. Despite their strange eyes, they love simplicity. They are wild but not silent and they lean over Manjunath shoulder as a lover. The birds are Manjunath’s friends, wiping his wet head. Like this, like a leaf in a river, I wanted to live in simplicity, and walk in simple paths. I feel bored now in this bustling city, but Manjunath's joy never ends with jungle birds and their endless colors. The birds are few here, and I'm trying to plant a tree to invite the birds so I can live without loneliness. I am tired of waiting for Manjunath’s birds to make this earth green again.

MANJUNATH AND THE SMILING FLOWER

In the field of flowers, wildflowers cover the earth and their colorful veil has a dreamy world. On magical depths of a spirit filled with the astonishing path, you traveled to beginnings, where Manjunath is blossoming. Something strange, the wizard's land steals minds and leaves in you an endless and unforgettable memory. Frankly, I'm not a traveler, but Manjunath is a legendary traveler embracing a smiling flower, and I'm sure, I won't see such a smiling flower.

MANJUNATH AND THE AZURE TUNE

Eternity has an Azure tune, and time is a brown cave of its gate. Yes, the sky is our free depth, so its hidden shades fly high within us. Time is a wisdom home, and when its hand touches our shadow, we are embodied as a true story. Look at the caves; they are witnesses of smiles of the early morning to hear the truth. Manjunath is deeply happy, because his heart hears the azure tune of the sky and his eyes see the sparkle of those fine shades that need a soul a waterfall and a bright brown cave. The cave is the gate of Heaven, and Manjunath knows how to hear its azure tune.