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?
Sarkarverse article
Audio recording
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?
Sarkarverse article
Audio recording
While sitting neath a medlar tree, He appeared before me. Words fall short while striving to describe His sublime majesty.
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