The Lonely Room

In a large open room

With forty empty tables,

A long black eagle

Spread its monotonous wings

Along the front wall.

The closed windows were shuddering,

And the door was dancing

With the silent tomb-like melody.



Like a bunch of ants on a hill,

Students crowded outside the room.

Exhausted, bored they sought

Another new thought.

The young wise-man, like a dress-man,

Stood still, waiting for the bell to ring.



When the bell shouted nine,

A parade began.

Soldiers left the battlefield.

The wise-man, used to the game,

Closed the door and

Acted as duty done.

The joy of learning was postponed

Till an unknown day.

The vibrating windows, wet with the sudden rain,

Predicted the doomsday.



Between the students

And the Wise-man

Between the silence

And the voice

Blew the wind.



Between the book

And the mind

Between the present

And the past

Blew the wind.



The lonely room,

Strange in the forest,

Expected one day a tourist’s visit

To fly back to its own nest

Before the last gust of the wind.