Saturday, December 7, 2019

His wondrous expression

(1442)  Amar e phulavane

In this, my plantation,
Who are You that came? You made flowers blossom.
On the withered branch, a bud You awakened;
You imbued with color, beauty, and aroma.

The rosebush had borne aught but thorns;
There'd been no slew of hues, no store of forms.
Amid her thorns, comely contours You did pour,
On this very break of day, on this same dawn.

The champak tree had lost its sweetness;
Bumblebees weren't gathered to make heard the words of love.
That tree You did decorate, You brought out its floral glamor;
Speaking in whispers, behind a veil of tales You hid.

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