When Time was Helpless before You

 

Thou art beauty unchanged, unmoved

Just like that waterfall always the same;

Whose persistence running water can’t tame,–

That gracious continuity which time always pursued.

 

Thy gentle breezy state maketh time nude;

Attired if not by its changing game,

And thy beauty becometh a name;–

A picture which lives; never moved.

 

I salute thy infinite instantaneous beauty,

Thou smile and live for the beauty’s sake;

A beauty that was and will remain forever,

Time’s elements will try haughty,

But it can never take

So many jewels from thy lover.

An Orphan (or half orphan) in the Night

 

O child, where thy mother hast gone?

Standth as thou in this dark night,

Tears thy go waste; succeeds only moan,

Where ist thy absolute right to sleep quiet?

 

That mother, who shines as some distant star,

I doubt that she is too far;

Too away is the smiley spark to mar

The ghosts, and encourage thy tiny soul at war.

 

O thou two unfortunate ones,

Slept when together, time was once,

Now but both awake,

Why doesn’t she take thee away and make

A little star near her for thy sake,

So that cry thou not

and motherhood drown in sorrowful lake.

Duty to the Beauty

 

These tiniest showers fall,

Just like dream sweetest call

When we lie asleep,

Beloved, thy same slender sip

Through eyes leaves me wined;

As if in heavens I dined.

 

Those pouty fishy full lips;

Divine experience smitten tips,

And me smooched over them,

Plucked, then, the sweetest gem

Out of feminine treasure house,

Oh! Greatest fire it dost douse.

 

And thou fall for me

Like the windfallen flower to see

Its beauty fully blown;

Those petals having much shone,

Now was the time

To reach the prime.

 

O my beauty, I am the means to thy end,

Thou art Godsent,

And me the beauty’s supplement;

To be used for its fulfillment,–

Black bee for the bud virgin,

Beauty’s utility then begin.

 

What a great utilitarian, beauty!

So many boulders haughty

Corrode to die a death sandy,

So that river’s curves become more trendy,

Flows which then with a pride;

Starry eyes shine, O groomed bride.

 

I’m made for thee sweetlet,

Damn sure, I can bet

To exist away from company thine,

Thou but can’t without this pine,

And some say I consumeth you,

Me thus the blamers sue.

 

O my little flower, tell

Me a single one dwell

Immortal in this world

Without crusher’s press hurled

Around the petals soft,

While the perfume cometh

As the much cherished croft.

 

I exist for thee, O my beauty,

‘Complete thou’ is my duty.

Immortal Daughter

 

Ye black clouds amidst

Dark night knowst not,

How thy smallest daughter kisst

Slightest opening in bud’s pout.

 

Flower’s cherub and thine,

And sissy, hilarious time’s twin,

Thou seest not thy rhyme,

Pass thundering, lightening wink.

 

Huge! Thou dost overcast sky;

Time also takes mountainous leaps;

And flowers stretch heavenly eye,–

Thou three infinite parents.

 

Still, three children thine,

Only through them thy worth shine.

Love Someone’s Life Flower

 

Life, how much should I love thee?

And in which form and appearance?

Is it the one inside me

Or, the heart’s praise for that flower with fragrance?

 

The flower possessed by fear,

Love it is, or owner’s craze?

While, wildlife throbbing near,

And the flower still uncaught by

Someone’s love-net’s maze.

 

Why must a flower be loved?

Is it that it appears beautiful?

Or, love it creates which moved

An inward passion from death's pull.

 

O thou flower, I love thee more than the self,

For thou art the dreamy life unpossessed.

Glimpses of Something about Love

 

Where the light shines to the last ray

And night falls prey

Upon the rugged day

Sprawled mountains array.

And it raining to day’s last grey,

Drops shower darkness to lay

Solitude in night’s fray,

While the clouds thickening make way

For drunken wet night, which say

Like a drenched damsel makes hay:

‘See me not, for I foray

Hilarious hug in lover’s shrug, Oye!’

Vow, that eagerness! Sea ye

Seemst dying to see off the day,

Thy quivering pout through bay

Excites earth to foreplay;

Closing eyes to gentle breezy sway.

Alas! Eyes, imagination goes nay,

And the love scene blurs away,

Her sprawled hair put shadowy sway.

Immortal Beauties

 

When I think about the past,

Time’s load overcast

Rumbling clouds stretching vast,

So many beautiful things died; now aghast

Me remember them as alive for the last,

Alas, but life is so fast;

So many beauties annihilated in the merciless blast.

 

At each step a graveyard,

Present’s efforts fought hard;

Like versified truth from some bard;

Then coffin cradled, which once flowered

And whom this hasty runner favoured,

Now when time hath devoured,

Me prepare its next food; step as forward.

 

How impermanent, transient is life!

So many full flowers cuts time’s knife,

Still at each futuristic step we arrive

At something where newborns thrive,

And for more and more we strive,

Alas but, sacrificial presents only for the past’s survive,

And future’s tiny, trivial, momentous drive.

 

Are those graved beautiful flowers dead?

Whom no eye would ever read,

No! Seeds they are which time had

Furrowed along a path by someone who bravely lead,

Bloom they will again afore some eyes sad,

Whose present-past coexist and future dead,

My graved beauties then'll relive afore that bent head.

 

His senses lying rusting,

Still something in the dust goes bursting;

Swelling to Himalayan husting,

While illusion’s death hissing;

Dying before newborn rising

Above father’s head, where Gods watch praising.