Awaking and arising,
The bewitching silence and the lull breaking over
Into ripples of bird music and flutters and flies,
Together with the fishermen at work,
Netting somewhere in the landscape
And the cobwebs shining over
In the fist flashes of the morning sun,
The green grass still laden with the dews
Fallen during the night-time
And what more to picture and penetrate into?
The world arising from, awaking and arising
From its night-long slumber,
The sleep and yawn of it,
The dormant state of inertia,
Lotuses half-open,
Waiting for the flashlight to bloom fully
With the flashing golden light,
Pink, white and rarely bluish,
Lilies pink, white and bluish
And the ducks ready to swim past the pools of water.
Morning serenade full of silence and quietude and lull
Broken by the flashing sun,
Emerging from the red disc
Rosy and pink, pink and rosy
The flashing sunlight of the cameraman,
The lensman
Clicking the camera to snap photographs;
The village maids going to the river to carry water
And the world yet to return to clamour,
The crossroads yet to crisscross with wayfarers
And their queries and footprints.