Wild Beauty from Hills

 

The mighty river, in wintry shiver,

Warmly it flows; water motherly glows,

Majestic Goddess! Gay abandon and virgin fresh!

To wash the child; for aeons who guiled.

 

Comes cold air, to kiss the upper layer,–

Flautist around her lips, blowing musical whiffs,

Untamed beauty listens not, with mountains it fought,

Defeated broadest shoulders; sensuous curves ate boulders,

 

From far, far............ without distance’s bar,

Thou walk everywhere; stop nowhere,

Like beauty nomad, who doesn’t shed

Her heart’s tear; which her freedom can’t bear.

 

Lapping, joyous water; thy stony falter,

Thou, but, never fall, clear obstructions all,

Rock woes! Wins as a dewy rose,

Thy victorious path, for the sinner’s bath.

 

Beauty wins, while proud father grins,

Daughter go on, and do not moan

Thy victory’s incise; it is father’s prize,

Take my worth, for the plain’s mirth.

 

Timelessly it goes, like immortal rose,

For millions’ sake, and take

Faith in full flow; save the sinking low,

Rest it doesn’t take, till the final lake.

The Star with Endless Beauty

 

Full bloomed flower; beauty in shower,

Raining to drench, raining to drench!

To colour eyes dry, where colourless dreams cry,

Softly pacifying destiny’s lynch.

 

Aha coloured rain, shooing away defeat’s pain!

Forget everything, forget everything!

For heaven’s sake, and take

Glimpse of the real being.

 

The petals soft, inspire aloft,

Live like me, live like me!

Make hay a day; worry not last ray,

Let life a flower be!

 

Give fragrance, without self’s hindrance,

Multi-hue others, multi-hue others!

So, death when comes, a loser it becomes,

Everything already given, now what is gathers!

 

Glow thou beauty, it is thy duty,

To celebrate and congratulate even those who lose,

Godly appreciation, so that desperation

Does not become deadly noose.

A Maiden’s Living Painting

 

Heaven has just sprinkled green,

Wonder, if nature had ever been

Painted so monotonously!

Paddy, paddy everywhere, He says generously,

 

The greenish sweep sways,

Guess what the sun says?

Shy-eyed from that cloud’s corner above,

Green-girdled maiden gives naughty shove.

 

And the clouds roam;

The love separating dome,

Prevent the full eye’s glee,

Lover lost; his damsel on the flee.

 

Softly, softly comes the breeze,

So that time may not seize

The beauty gone motionless,

Nimbly flutters her dress.

 

Farmers paying tribute to Goddess green,

Remove wrong colours from the scene,

The devotees with painter’s precision,

Go on working, working with a vision.

 

She, meanwhile, gallops across fields,

Giggling and air-heeled,

The virgin in its full bloom,

Would-be-mother, many fates lie in thy womb.

A Rhyme Written Across the Jungle

 

The meditative flow

Of this small brook;

The waters serene and slow,

Move bearing a pebbled look.

 

The jungle seems

Spellbound by its beauty,

Like a lover dreams

About those curves and lips pouty.

 

And the trees

Watch the damsel with gleeful eyes,

Softest of the breeze,

Slow, slow the silent majesty flies!

 

A sparrow dips its small beak

Into the generous, smiling water,

Thirst goes away! And seek

Refuge where water doth falter.

 

This slim feminine Goddess,

Blesses everything with its soft touch,

Aha, extreme beauty seemst too modest!

This wild maiden is careless such.

 

Thus, the brook flows with its beauty,

In harmony with the time,

The universal flow doing its duty,

God, how great is thy flowing rhyme!

Alas, the Spring Too Far!

 

Frigid fate gone to ferocious winters;

The winter with its frosty bite,

Shivers where warmth’s might,

And failure lets loose its hungry hunters.

 

Aah, the ice cold reality!

So ruthless for vein’s warmth,

And the forceful fist disarmth,

Lost is manhood of its valiant beauty.

 

The blizzards seem so frightful,

Oh! Superficiality crumbles deadly,

The avalanche hurries madly,

To follow the failure for its handful.

 

Long Ago the summer passed,

And autumn too with its windfalls,

The winter but seemst too harsh,

Will spring ever blossom where death danced?

Alas, the Orchid Too Far!

 

The rising rays fell upon a dream,

Shining future got upstream,

And expectations windily blown,

Nobody, meanwhile, listened destiny’s scream.

 

How painfully he nourished that dream!

The sweaty toil to nurture

And water the bud for flowery future,

How rugged the chosen path seem!

 

The path to that

Lush green orchard,

For whom he went diehard,

While, the fate chuckling for a bet.

 

Went flowerily on the path,

Following the flower of life,

Alas, the ‘predetermined’ preparing its knife,

To cut the bud for its bloody bath.

 

Reached he when there,

With his feet all bloodied,

The bud lay already buried,

And the orchid gone for cemetery’s bare.

 

God, why the sincerest efforts fail?

Perhaps, victory too loses

To huge efforts, which give it repeated bruises,

The unsung heroes, whom it doth hail.

Journey with the Autumn

 

Autumn, become my friend,

Thou holding my hand,

Take me through the windfalls,

To help me forget my own tree’s bereaving calls.

 

The tree where summer’s ripenings,

Too fruity, heavy for the branch’s likings,

The air through their fall singth,

While, thou make me follow thy grayish path.

 

‘See not thy own windfalls’,

Thou say, dodging thy falls,

And push me from my tree,

So that I become mourn-free.

 

And the autumn path brownish,

Summer’s warmth vanish

Joyfully from fruits, leaves,

Vow! Fairy for its beauty not grieves.

 

Happily I run with thee,

Away! Away! Where another season be,

Where trees glee with fruity prospects more,

Where snow melts to welcome the spring at its door.