And I am painting,
Making the portrait.
Now fear I in making the portrait
As if I make her,
She will turn into a lovely lass
Whose dreamy eyes none but shall fear I.
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The girl is very beautiful
Frankly speaking, the girl is very beautiful to seeAnd say about.Very beautiful, very-very beautiful.
I scvattered over the red rose,
And in the petals falling,Glimpsed I my flower queen.
God has given you talent and I know it not,
Blooming in the wilds and fading it unknown,My God, if the Mercy be Your with me!Let me be a singer of that flower, that wild bloomBlooming and fading away unseen, unknown;Let me be a singer of that!That beloved whom one lures and loves and abandons herOn the unknown path of life;Let, let me stand up…
You are yourself so beautiful to look at that
So attractive and lovely,So fascinating and charming indeed.On looking you, my pen stops it,As if someone holding the penAnd asking me,You do not write, do not,See the lovely maid,Just see her,Not less than your poetry.
Ganga Sagar,
I cannot think of goingSeeing the endless crowds,The sea of pilgrimsGoing from U.P., Bihar, Haryana,Nepal,The old and the infirm,Women and childrenBy ramshackle busesTripping to Sagar IslandsTo go missing, get lostIn the sea of crowds.But the question is,Where is the Kapil Muni Ashrama,Where the place of Bhagirath,Will they be able to seeIn that crowd and discomfort?
Bhagjogini, a countryside girl, simple and innocent,
She arises in the morning,Sweeps the floor,Goes to the river to fill the earthen pitcher with water.A small girl, in a simple and ordinary frock,See I her standing her,Ever ready to serve the guestWith a very fine mindAnd that too without any guile in her heart.She herself a small girl,But she carrying her only smaller…