Sunday, May 31, 2020

One without a second



(1594)  Bakul tarur chaye

Neath the shade of bakul tree,[1]
Oh Who art Thou that appeared,
Flowers scattering?

Not a word You spoke with anybody;
On a golden throne You had been,
With sweet notes in hues of spring,
Suffusing psyche.

Is there anywhere that I will find a peer,
Who makes colored both the sides, out and in,
With brush-stroke on mental cranny,
The spring having smeared?

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1 comment:

  1. While sitting neath a medlar tree, He appeared before me. Words fall short while striving to describe His sublime majesty.

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