O gem, why thou shone
Lovely in my eyes?
Why thou were born of aeon,
If beauty's reflection surely dies?
Even memories have gone
To the deepest burial,
Faintest memories sometimes moan
Over the love's funeral.
Why they say
That love never dies?
It, of course, does on the dooms day,
When someone so lovely, heavenwards flies.
What is the use of fragrant shower?
If you do not see the flower!
The night was spiritually lit; milky,
Aha such a beautiful night!
But, still not lucky
To dazzle in a couple's love delight.
Perhaps, alone with its misty milky light,
Hey Look! A farmer is there,
Irrigating his wheatlings amidst frosty bite,—
Ritual holiest by this agrestic seer.
And water here or there shines
To a chilly chide by the moon,
While, milky loneliness pines
For its brave son a harvest boon.
His feet numb in freezing water,
Amidst 'warmly sleepers' he seems a martyr.
Life is a song,
Which soul singths;
The spirit playing matter's lyre,
Melody starting with first cry,
Goes on and on,
Till completion of the journey,—
Notes high and notes low;
Beats ecstatic and tragic most;
Sometimes fast and sometimes pensively slow,
The soul goes on playing
The strings in body's harp,
And then the barely audible;
The last twinge at the death bed,
The soul as if in a hurry,
Plays the mysterious rhythm,
Which, though, completion of the song,
Stands distinct for its abstractness.
Aah! Why is it that
Most of the songs end on a tragic note?
Why not the escaping soul,
Plays the most rhythmic tone
At that moment last?
Consoles which those eyes
Where pain creates furious storms.
We smiled, dulcified with
Great display: the life song,
But alas! Eburine years passed,
Crony days ebbed, never to come again.
Crowned each other, thought
Two paths always go parallel,
But, we just tread side by side,
Only to slip away, at the opportunity first.
Blame not friend or thyself,
As we are 'friends at court',
It is a day, dawn to dusk;
We meet only to drift away.
Inevitable as it is, humans
Beat never the dust same;
All need own track,
Runs where nobody besides.
O man! Crib not about vaporous friendliness lost,
Never judge friendship by time,
Feeds it only on the present; future preys,
So, cherish only moments those.
The year prepares to say bye,
Here comes the last day with a sigh:
'Pray I for the humanity's high',
Takes birth the 366th with a cry,
The dawn having a sunny try
Over the mist which lie
Silvery still around His 'eye',
Which struggle against the eyed sly.
O new rays upon facets awry,
Would'u make them diamonds? 'Ay'
Says the day's eye,
Oh! The eye from the sky,
Ponder over earthling's vie.
From the time gone by
Gods doth fly
On chariot rays, to lay by
Godhood and get terrestrial tie.
O Dawn, thou doth imply,
Pious start for all and I,
Say as thou a smiling 'hi'
To the love hungry; lover's eye,
And the obstacles face a 'why'
As thou hand over a gyve
For the fates dry.
Thy sunny camp; tight up a guy,
New delicacies thou fry
For the bellies where even the hunger die.
Day, thou handling a key,
To bring fatality to its knee.
Today is the 1st of January,
The day as if in love,
Black-silvery, it says sorry
To the cloud-veiled sun's shove.
A new day with a new aurora,
Week new with new lyre,
20th gone, now 21st opera,
And millennium new with aurum-aureola.
Yes! New Year's first day
With its rainy ray.
Droplets with winy chorus falling,
Ebriated, chilly air goes sailing.
And we get an excited shiver,
Like a river
In a cold rainy vale;—
New drink for humanity's hail.
Trees dance to a moderate gale,
Leaves rustle to rainy tune,
Pouring as destiny's boon—
A new day too in some solitary dale.
The cold, wet new day,
Still with an aeonic silvery new ray,
Flaura fauna make hay,
Like a wave enters a new bay.
What can death do to thee?
Thou, who’s enlightened at this little age,
And approach it with a glee,
After such blessed souls death hast a futile chase.
For, people like thou only play with it,
Lay it worthless by fearing it not,
Only by people like thou it gets hit,
Immortal flowers, while, never get shot.
O thou, who makest time meaningless
By living infinitely in its every unit!
Instant any can’t complain chancelessness,
Endless is thy journey without limit!
If a single instant can claim immortality,
And goodness pride in its agelessness,
Then thou but do them a duty,
Take them so far without any shiftiness.
Souls like thou are creator’s manifestations,–
Harmony-fairy with its lullaby,
And a soothing voice to hurried steps to destinations,
How can we separate God from its baby?
Happily go, O angel, to that finest
Destination amidst heavens,
For the death will always fail in its quest,
As thou personify His sermons.
