Season of Crows

a childhood in India, 1956-1972

The Sparrow

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So strong are we to fly in fighter planes
A hundred miles above the fleecy clouds
The world below is surely lost to sight
We turn the metal engine of our might
And bank into the sun at dizzy speed
Above us all is blank and heavenly blue
Victorious, soaring, man exults anew
With each sortie through the airy deep
Yet cannot we launch blithely from the ground
With wingèd arms outstretched above the grass
And veer across the gilded meadow green
A hundred feet above the crumbly ground
As does a dappled sparrow in the hedge
This I dreamed when I was just a child
And this is still my futile dream today
To be as like a sparrow on the wing
To be released from all of our invention
Simply fly as does the little bird
And seek a worm upon the sunlit ground
Arjun L. Sen
2010
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Author: Arjun_L_Sen

Born in India in 1956. Grew up in London, Calcutta (Kolkata) and Delhi. Studied history at university in Delhi and completed a sub-doctoral research degree in Social Anthropology at Oxford University. Interested in creative writing, art and animal rights. Art website at http://Arjuna.pixels.com. Has lived in Spain since 2003.

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