Friday, February 24, 2017


(655)  Kali phuteche ali juteche

Blossomed is the bud, assembled are the bees;
Blowing is a sweet and gentle breeze.
Desperate now, keenly I long to find
That nymph divine who's carried off my mind.

On this moonlit night, forgetting fear and shyness,
My naked, questing heart catches sight of the miscreant.

A fragile blade of grass, fitted out only in green,
Waves about, summoned by an unidentified mind-thief.

On mountains and in the sea, and in my deepest feelings,
By the touch of consciousness, a buzzing's been awakened.

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