"fled is thy music:—do I wake or sleep?"
Tianamoon
The nocturnal sky shimmering with stars around
The trance earth lulled by odorous breeze,
Rustling the old Bacchian leaves.
The silvery moon illumes the weary land,
Makes visible the rocky river bank.
My aching legs lead me to that way,
Fatigued of sweet saunter through sylvan land.
Sitting beside the mango tree,
I watch the quivering moon,
Tempting me to gulp her down.
The starry fays around her
Form her bright necklace,
Her silvery rays all,
Form her wedding dress.
So true is her watery vision,
That fills me with sensation.
Beyond the horizon I see my mind
Luring me to catch those days.
Like stars decked in the sky
They shine but in haze.
Still amidst the rush of days,
Glistening like you the fair moon,
The elusive hours of mine in her arms.
Tender was those nippy nights,
On the carpet of the green hills.
Though now they far behind
Yet visible in sleepless dreams.
I bend to catch those greasy hours,
Only to be drenched in silvery water.
The watery moon now lost a while
To form her in some stilly eve.
- Ist published in POESIA
The nocturnal sky shimmering with stars around
The trance earth lulled by odorous breeze,
Rustling the old Bacchian leaves.
The silvery moon illumes the weary land,
Makes visible the rocky river bank.
My aching legs lead me to that way,
Fatigued of sweet saunter through sylvan land.
Sitting beside the mango tree,
I watch the quivering moon,
Tempting me to gulp her down.
The starry fays around her
Form her bright necklace,
Her silvery rays all,
Form her wedding dress.
So true is her watery vision,
That fills me with sensation.
Beyond the horizon I see my mind
Luring me to catch those days.
Like stars decked in the sky
They shine but in haze.
Still amidst the rush of days,
Glistening like you the fair moon,
The elusive hours of mine in her arms.
Tender was those nippy nights,
On the carpet of the green hills.
Though now they far behind
Yet visible in sleepless dreams.
I bend to catch those greasy hours,
Only to be drenched in silvery water.
The watery moon now lost a while
To form her in some stilly eve.
- Ist published in POESIA
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1 comment:
It's really strange how people camoflauge their actual self...
When we fail to understand people 'so-close' to us and fall prey to a game of deception what do we feel from inside?
Something that cannot be spoken out but yet cannot be kept buried inside...
"Feelings cannot be penned so well..." - the phrase loses it's truthness when I come across 'Tianamoon'...
cherioz to the poet.!
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