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May 20th, 2004, 12:24 AM
A roar is there is my voice, in the belly of the roar; there is an echo of reverberation,
In the roar of my voice oceans, mountains, forests, villages and so on are all roaring
For their identity, for their name: they are roaring for a unique experience, which is different from their existence-
But in my name there is indifference to name.
Time is flowing through me towards the climax of expression it going
towards silence gathering all the sounds that exist.
Sea is not an anthology of waves.
Sea is a language, sea is my name.
In the rainy season, unable to carry load of clouds, revolt that winds make are hurricanes.
Storms and hurricanes teach the science of revolt:
Shout without fear: look! We live as long as we have thirst to live.
Oh desire to live! May you flourish, Oh Sail! May you be cut off, oh waves! Become ferocious do not limp like dogs, Oh wind! Call the storms and typhoons, oh shore I command you become distant, oh ship, wreck down-
Where oceans keep kicking the skies with their fists; it is only there I go.
I make friends with storms; I worship the grandeur and beauty of the lions.
Only there I lay down my life.
The wind gathers clouds from the areas of seas and blowing to winds the peaks of mountains leaves the clouds there.
The wind leaves clouds also on shouting forests, and also on the climax of skies telling them enjoy here freely like babies-
Wind is the ambassador of the dreams of the seas:
Wind with its whirlwind body utters the Upanishads of oceans. Wind is the commentator of the heart of the ocean.
Heart is the property, only who understands it-
-Seshendra Sharma