In the memory of Laxmi Prasad Devkota

Laxman Dhamala
Ohio, America

On the night of November 12, 1909,
“Laxmi” – the hero who shined.
The holy night, (the night of “goddess of wealth”)
Was full of light.
Your birth added,
brightness to the light.
Your first cry,
defining your wellbeing,
Caught the parents’ sight.
There began your literature,
verbally tender,
Which grew up as a thunder.
You had to fight, the bad time,
To bring up your creations,
against the regime.
When you were financially broken,
Were laughing with hope,
without a token.
You are the poet “the Great”
Your hight of light,
never be shed.
All epics, poems, dramas and the verses
are nursing the Nepali literature,
As it nursed.
The whole tribute to Nepali literature,
Created a huge literary theater.
You are the poet,
with a golden heart.
No one could represent,
in the human chart.
Family tragedy shattered you down
That made you more unsound.
You were highly ruffled,
missing the family circle.
Your personality was
incomparable and gentle.
I always had a question,
why you were treated as “Mental”?
The creations were high and deep,
Which cannot be acknowledged by cheap.
The differences in mental sensations
You were taken to Rachi, in a confusion.
The doctor said “a geographical mistake”.
In the lunatic bed,
Poems popped out in your head.
The lunatic poem “THE CRAZY”
reveals the facts,
The Degree of disagreeing,
and the brutal acts.
Your inner humanity,
and the social integrity,
Has high-class fame,
Which can never be condemned.