The Silent Valley

Poem by Shamik Banerjee

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Brown-pointed sprays and withes hang down,
Thick boles engirdle 'round one's eyes;
From far Nilgiri hoists its crown,
Sun thrings where deep the forest lies;
A greyish trail, dense side hedgerows,
The straight view's like a curved green light,
Where more advanced, greener it grows-
A macaque and civet in sight-
On seeing tourists, little fley,
Their stunned faces ask, "Who are they?"