Who never wanted to make you
An addict,
Where your friends
Who developed the habit in you
And leaving you in abject poverty
And bad state,
Fled they away
And now you selling the things for the intoxicants,
Trying every sort of addiction
And instead of it, sleep is not on the eyes,
You keepong half-awake and babbling,
Your eyes red with
Which you understand it not.
Light and darkness,The history of lightAnd reflection,Light reflecting,Dazzling and glistening,Falling uponAnd flashing.The history of lightAnd with lightThe history of creation,Sound,The break of soundWith the cock-crow and dawn break,The lotus bloomingIn the fresh sunlight.
Quarrelling with and flinging the books,Tearing apart the notes of the scholarAs for his being lost in readings and studies,Trying to reconcile withAnd come to termsAfter weeping and crying,The teenaged and pastoral girl,Dressed and made up to turn upTo please the repenting husbandAs for the research papersDestroyed and unavailableWithout the carbon copy even.She came to,…
The poor ragged man as the singer of Rama is before you to peruse and pursue if there is something readable in it and if not, you dump it elsewhere taking it to be rubbish as I have nothing to claim nor can I say it with firmness that I have really written it something…
But you,Only you,My love,Oh, understands it notThe foolish heart!
Circling and circling over,How beautiful is itTo see the bird of preyHovering around,Encircling around!The red kiteSoaring on large wings,Unfolded,Scaling and soaring.
The bells broke they looseAnd beauty too faded itIn the passage of timeOr the courtiers plotted and conspired againstIn their lust and treachery?
