Passing by the "Wasteland"

(Dr Maung Maung Nyo)

(In Memory of Nobel Prize Winner Poet T.S. Eliot)

I passed by the waste land

It was messed by many hands

If one has to mend

One has to fend through legends.

Eliot writes," April is the cruelest month, bleeding

Lilacs out of the dead land,

Mixing memory and desire stirring

Dull roots with spring, rain".

In modern days, the Waste land is brewing

Day and night, in summer, fall and spring

So many events and incidents are unfolding

What truth is showing?"

What are the roots that clutch,

What branches grow

Out of this stony rubbish?

Son of man,

You cannot say or guess,

For you know only

A heap of broken images,

Where the sun beats."

Yes, it's mystic waste land

Every one is a fiend;

Some pretend to be a friend

But, he is blood sucker in the end.

A chieftain howls against a nation

He accused it of possessing means of destruction

He invaded it without warning or mercy

Killing, maiming and destroying life and property.

His followers praised him

Dissidents are branded traitors

No weapon was found in that nation

He said he had other enemies there later!

The waste land is crowded with people;

They glow with the reflection of its hue

Black, yellow and brown rue with white

To have a place in the limelight.

No doubt there is gold in the sand;

Yet, all that glitters is not gold

Many are goblins, imps and fiends

Waiting upon others to seize their souls.

Many call by their nicknames

"Tom, Dick and Harry without shame;

They are reliving in the kindergarten

Bad habits die hard in children.

Some have school boys' habit till today;

They commit together many foul plays

They rejoice together their spoils always

They would even go to hell together anyway.

Do not tell a fact they don't like;

They are ready to fight

If it is right against one of their pack

They are fond of such smack!

"Here is no water but only rock

Rock and no water and the sandy road;

The road winding above among the mountains

Which are mountains of rock without water..."

T.S. Eliot was a great man

He saw many things in a scan;

We don't see as much

But, we know we're in the mud.

"And no rock;

If there were rock

And also water

And water

A spring

A pool among the rock..."

If there is water

Frogs and toad will gather;

They will croak and clamor

For their life and leisure for ever.

Some toads have shed their skin;

They have left their sheen

But they still like to pose as patriots

They think they can hoodwink an Eliot.

Dr Maung Maung Nyo
16.10.2007