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"usurer" poems
Dear Friends, this poem was composed many years ago and posted on ‘Poemhunter.com’. Time here is compared to the money lender and miser Shylock in Shakespeare’s ‘Merchant Of Venice’, where Shylock insisted on cutting out a pound of flesh from the merchant Bassanio, for having failed to pay back the loan taken from Shylock! Hope you like it, - Raj                 TIME THE GREAT USURER       TIME the great usurer, is a great miser too,       Always knows the cost of things to be paid       back by you!       It readily loans you the desired amount in       number of years.       Smilingly assures and allays all your doubts       and fears.       It makes the loan to appear like a free gratis,       So you hardly bother to take any notice!        But with the passage of growing years and life depleting with time,        In paying back your interests, you got to        default sometime.        Precisely at that moment, the usurer knocks        rather loud,        And through death takes back its’ principal        amount !               Alas, Time the great Shylock knows the cost        of everything.        When will it learn to appreciate the value        we attach to things?                                              -Raj Nandy, New Delhi.
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Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 12:02 PM UTC
TIME THE GREAT USURER !
Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend Upon thy self thy beauty’s legacy? Nature’s bequest gives nothing, but doth lend, And being frank she lends to those are free. Then, beauteous niggard why dost thou abuse, The bounteous largess given thee to give? Profitless usurer, why dost thou use So great a sum of sums yet canst not live? For having traffic with thyself alone, Thou of thyself thy sweet self dost deceive. Then how when nature calls thee to be gone, What acceptable audit canst thou leave? Thy unused beauty must be tombed with thee, Which usèd, lives th’ executor to be.
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Sonnet 004: Unthrifty Loveliness, Why Dost Thou Spend
So, now I have confessed that he is thine, And I my self am mortgaged to thy will, Myself I’ll forfeit, so that other mine Thou wilt restore to be my comfort still. But thou wilt not, nor he will not be free, For thou art covetous, and he is kind, He learned but surety-like to write for me Under that bond that him as fist doth bind. The statute of thy beauty thou wilt take, Thou usurer, that putt’st forth all to use, And sue a friend, came debtor for my sake; So him I lose through my unkind abuse. Him have I lost, thou hast both him and me; He pays the whole, and yet am I not free.
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Sonnet 134: So, Now I Have Confessed That He Is Thine
Well, the usurer was generous, nonetheless -- Was it his money?
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Dec 17, 2022
Dec 17, 2022 at 4:45 AM UTC
[ Well, the usurer ]
I am gone home to sleep don't follow me down with your issues i have no where else i can go for fortress other than the oblivion to the world which my dear sleep always crowns me, my heart has no other fountain of self renew other than my cost free sleep , which your usurer's knack has not yet priced, leave me alone to sleep for in my death like sleep i test freedom of the enslaved
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Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 2:11 PM UTC
Am gone home to sleep