There is no death in April

Apparently there is no death
And the poet says so in April

That brings on yearly spring
With sun on a burning neck.

A beauty is apparent in April
And the bush is singing as if.

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Flowers in Kashmir

But seeds of blood are planted
In pearl-white Himalaya snow.

We ask two-faced Janus to tell,
With  green nowhere in sight,

If spring’s Kalashnikovs bloom
Its flowers on Kashmir’s white.