Bilingual MCA
BHUWAN THAPALIYA
Bhuwan Thapaliya
Editor,
Mystic East Publishing
P.O. Box 2211
Sioux City IA 51104 USA
http://www.pubmysticeast.com
http://www.authorsden.com/bhuwanthapaliya
| Favorite Links |
| Our Nepal, Our Pride |
| Background Information | ||||
| It takes tons of time to compose an ounce of poetry but when it is composed it surpasses the eternity. Its connotation like the four seasons of the earth, may change from time to time, its authenticity like the existence of the deity will be questioned from time to time, its manifestation like the symphony of clouds will be misunderstood from time to time, but its universal consensus like the perpetual soul, will forever live on, and its grandeur, like the countenance of the sun will forever shine on…will forever shine on. -Bhuwan Thapaliya | ||||
| Birth Place | ||||
| Kathmandu, Nepal | ||||
| Accomplishments | ||||
| The New Pleiades Anthology of Poetry = Le Florilège de la nouvelle Pléiade, © 2005 (to be released in the Summer of 2005) ISBN 1-878431-52-8. This major international anthology of poetry will feature hundreds of poems by such well-known contemporary poets as: Bradley A. Bucsis, Richard Doiron, Eric Linden, Helga Ross and Richard Vallance (Canada); Joseph Armstead, Sondra Ball, Jim Dunlap, Carmen Ruggero and C.S. Snow (USA); Richard James van der Draaij, Robin Ouzman Hislop and Sara Russell (UK); Üzeyir Lokman Çayci (France-Turkey), Shigeki Matsumura (Japan) and Bhuwan Thapaliya (Nepal). | ||||
| Additional Information | ||||
| Journalist-Poet-Editor. MSc in Finance From The University Of London( External Student ). | ||||
| Contact Information | ||||
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Poem No: One
Title: Peace Is Not Dead Yet, It Is Only In Coma.
Dream on, dream on, and dream on!
Blessed is the man, who perceives his
dreams, before he accepts the reality.
But don’t keep on dreaming forever,
wake up from your idyllic slumber
and rejuvenate the spirit of the Earth.
By planting the seeds of universal love
in an arid hearts of the multifarious men.
Wake up and transfer your dreams
into thoughts, and then transform
them into action, not only for your
inner peace but for the re-stabilization
of peace in the world, for peace is
not dead yet, it is still alive, it is in coma
as the truth eclipsed by the falsehood.
Poem No: Two
Title: O God! I thank them for giving me everything.
On the green terrain of the fortitude,
I have built a house out of the broken bricks,
and the pebbles, they had thrown at me.
And have painted my rooms bright, with the redness
of the volcanic wound, they had bequeathed me.
And I’ve planted the thorns they had pierced
me with, in the garden, hoping to see them
blossom into the flowers of the serenity.
O God! I thank them for giving me everything.
What they’d hurled at me were you, yourself to me.
“The beauty of that moment,” I shall never, never forget!
They were throwing broken bricks at me, and I was
building a house with it. I was weaving my dreams with it.
Now, the course of my life is as sweet as the breeze.
Inside the house there is a new world waiting for me.
Had they known then that, I would be using
those bricks and the pebbles to build my
house, then they would not have gifted me
those ingredients. Poor them, what was rubbish
to them, turned out to be too valuable for me.
They were blinded by disgust; they saw nothing.
Ah! But I saw you in those bricks, and piled them up,
until I build a house………until I build a house.
Proud, very proud I am now, I shall be telling
my kids and my grand kids, with a silken smile
on my face, some where in time that,
I had built a house out of the broken bricks,
they had hurled at me…they had hurled at me.
And had painted my rooms bright, with the redness
of the volcanic wound, they had bequeathed me.
Poem No: Three
Title: Alas! Man is but an effigy
A real drama takes place, outside the theatre,
in the stage of life, swayed by the wings of time.
Oh! How intimately intertwined, the two-sides
of man’s life are, on the one hand, lies the
rapture of, “love” and on the other hand, lies the
tragedy of, “loss”. Alas! Man is but an effigy
restrained by the chains of the uncertainty. He
spends all his time, searching for the thing that
is already within himself and curses his own destiny
for not giving him the moment, to have an orgasm
with the certainty………………….with the certainty.
Poem No: Four
Title: We Are Not Born For Ourselves
Sun is not born for itself;
it is born to shed warmth to all.
Stars are not born for themselves;
they are born to twinkle the glory of love.
Moon is not born for itself;
it is born to reflect love into the heart.
Clouds are not born for themselves;
they are born to conceal the disgust of love.
Rainbow is not born for itself;
it is born to coalesce the hearts of love.
Winds are not born for themselves;
they are born to drift the clouds over love.
Heaven is not born for itself;
it is born to shelter the immigrant of love.
Birds are not born for themselves;
they are born to spread the message of love.
Love is not born for itself;
it is born to add splendor to the hearts of man.
We are not born for ourselves;
we are born to reinforce humanity in the Earth.
Bhuwan Thapaliya
Editor,
Mystic East Publishing
P.O. Box 2211
Sioux City IA 51104 USA
http://www.pubmysticeast.com
http://www.authorsden.com/bhuwanthapaliya
More Poetry by Bhuwan Thapaliya: Arise, O the love of my love, resolve to make love, Oh! If you could feel them, O God! I thank them for giving me everything., Come home soon., Alas! Man is but an effigy, Have mercy on me, my love!, My eyes are now open, A thing of beauty isn't a joy forever to me., Come, my darling! utter not a word, Love, O love, where are you?, Make me immortal, I live beyond the confines of the mystery, Life is but a paradise, I wasn't born immortal but your love turned me into one., more...
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