What to him did pleasure mean
The last mentioned had for the reply
Brooks, rivers, daisies and hollyhocks
The mild mildews, the violets subdued
The deafening roar of the boulders loose
Which in heaps did pile up alongside
Skipping in dales and vales wherein
The country inn which boasted of
Spicy, nut brown ale brought
In a carriage carted to a horse
Screeching to a halt besides a
Thicket embedding crickets aloud
Did dawn upon the man
The who did sit under the sun, bright aflame.
Born one fine Indian midsummer in the walled city of Delhi, Subir Kumar Sen had spent his childhood, in awe of the splendid red sandstone fort, sprawling gardens, and lofty minarets in close proximity. There were bazaars of archaic ways boasting of all kind of antique wares which would carry one away to lands of fantasy. He was interested in poetry since childhood. He was inspired to write what went on within him, his mind and heart. He wanted to portray what all he went through, what all he had seen and could imagine. He had read poems written by the great masters, and was inspired to portray in his own small way. He holds a degree in English and has also studied Italian at the Italian Embassy and is a professional Italian translator. He is multilingual and is well versed in Hindi and Bengali, too. He currently stays on the outskirts of Delhi.
He tries to be very honest with his poems and writes what he sincerely feels. He loves to play with words because they are the ones which ultimately stir the senses.