I do not know why I get emotionally highly swayed when I read some English poems. I am a student of English literature and then when I was students reading poems were tedious and tiresome efforts. I read them for I had pass the exam.
Now I am no longer a student and nor a teacher of literature and now i enjoy reading much particularly poems.
Today I read a poem by D.H. Lawrence. I was acquainted with his ideas through his two novels Sons and Lovers and Women in love and I have but now only faint memories of what I read then.
Today the poem I read him is titled Piano. It starts with a line:
Softly, in the dust, a woman is singing to me;
Taking me back down the vistas of years, till I see
A child sitting under the piano, in the boom of the tingling strings
and pressing the small, poised feet of a mother who smiles as she sings.
That he was a perfect artist is very much evident here.
He was a writer who distasted things of civilization,for civilization has taken man away from closeness with nature, and he is uprooted with his roots in the air.
Imagine you were in a cave with your family members and playing with antelopes and little monkeys. The state of mind when you are close to things of nature and now with your technological sophistications.
We can not live that now, for going to nature is a course that goes reversally.
Yet visiting them through flights of imagination is a thing indeed of fascination.
I relive my days of babyhood when I was somewhere in the lap of some mountain.


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"It's so mysterious, the land of tears." 
