To appreciate the context for this poem, I strongly advise you to visit the web-site whose link is provided :
http://www.thetucsonpsychic.com/poetry.html
Where does this clamour end:
these voices wailing,
in the storm-eye of the world?
Where do poets end
and peace begin?
How do the mountains feel
in this unsilent land?
An infinite range of mountains we must cross,
for beyond that range lies clamour’s end.
All those wailing voices now caress,
for in that caress hides a storm.
Poets are winds that flow
from hills to treetops to hearts.
In the green pastures of a painful bellow
their mute feeling departs.
By: Ritwik Banerjee on October 15, 2007
at 12:17 pm
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