Monday, August 07, 2006

The quality of sleep is not strained
It is not to be had by the strength of will
It will not be cajoled, nor planned with reason
Nor is logic or necessity ever its envoy
A tired body may crave and not have it
The righteous might deserve and not find it
It is a fine thing, fragile and elusive
Its temper is lost with coercion or guile
But if you will have it still and are determined then
Go travel to lands that are not your own
These travels- they could be of a varying kind
Happy or arduous or peaceful, with every manner
Of luxury, bring great pleasure and pleasantness
And still it would not come…
Travel homeward then, unpack the baggage of the journey
Or a lifetime and turn to bed
If then on that day sleep does not afford you her that rare quality
She will have been mean indeed, or you not at home.


the One said...

This simply rocked. Yes, it rocked.

Shweta said...

Oh! Thank you, thank you! Said it once will say it again, you are a Kind One. Yes you are.

deewaan said...

hmm... homecoming as a soporific!!

Beautifully put...You do have a way of improving on originals!

You know, reading your stuff, I'm reminded of a conversation - a few summers back - with this snobbish Frenchman (a Comte, no less!) who tried to convince me (in defence of his own monolingualism) that the Human brain is so constituted that while it can learn multiple tongues, it can boast true creative facility in only ONE... I've half a mind to drag Monsieur's Gallic derrière over to your blog!!

Shweta said...

Vous êtes très gentils! But 'improving on originals' nai tauba, tauba, just an upstartish trick, c'est tout.

deewaan said...

ah bon?! Vous parlez francais aussi??? Formidable! Quelle jeune dame fascinante!!

Shweta said...

Non, non, monsieur, mais un peu.