Faraway in the coppice
echoes the shrill of a cuckoo
she who sings for her beloved
in melancholic blues…
The ripe blossoms of mango trees
disperses through the grove
Crossing the hill, nearby
reaches the hamlet offshore.
Halt!
Awaits who in the courtyard
The lonely lass
for the pulse of her heart alike the cuckoo,
she too remains hidden and lost…
to falling heaven
in joy , whence will the air gladden?
athirst soul, sings for love’s arrival
in wish of a unfulfilled quenching desire… photocredit:www.yeskey.com
soumyav 