Tuesday, June 9, 2020

To not be

(1602)  Tomar katha bheve bheve hai utala

Having thought and thought about You I am restless;
Your portrait within psyche leaves me tremulous.
Your smile and magic flute, piercing the heart,
Induce oblivion in me to my whole existence.

Autumn, with its whitish clouds and chill winds,
When flights of geese move, wings outspread...
In that dreamy atmosphere, inside of that nebula,
An end to my small-I is not in motion.

In the winter mists with their icy worldliness,
The ardor of a frosty heart gets lost.
Finally, mid spring's swell of waves You come,
You make the tale unspoken loquacious.

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