This is part of a series called ‘A sonnet to the world’, which I have been working on. The idea is to write a 14-line Shakespearean Sonnet for every country I visit (and hopefully and eventually, the whole world). And this one is for Mauritius.
We are the waylaid children of a waylaid civilisation.
As the patterned streets birth the reclusive inner bard,
As the colours turn to thoughts, thoughts to realisation,
We mull and mourn the many moments. Yet we move forward.
As the patterned streets birth the reclusive inner bard,
As the colours turn to thoughts, thoughts to realisation,
We mull and mourn the many moments. Yet we move forward.
Through Port Louis’ crowded wet market,
Like Sardines we move. – part of an organised school.
We give lesser than what we get,
Basking in our own image, coloured in motley fool.
Many a beach, our eyes came to see,
Yet the heels turned away towards the neon-lit bars.
The pristine waters of Grand Baie surround me,
Yet we drink up cans of Phoenix. What a farce!
Sometime I wonder – in all modesty.
Do we deserve all this? Do we really?
Poet’s notes
1) I visited Mauritius during NYE 2017. The end of the previous year – which was replete with tumultuous events around the globe – was also an opportunity for reflection and retrospection. And the same tone is prevalent almost throughout the poem.
2) Port Louis is the capital of Mauritius. Grand Baie is a popular beach. And Phoenix is the local beer of Mauritius.
The post A Sonnet to Mauritius appeared first on I am not home.
This post first appeared on I Am Not Home - A Traveller's Blog, Photographing, please read the originial post: here
