Tuesday, July 28, 2020

All the year round

(1653)  Varasa tumi ketakii surabhi

You are monsoon and the screwpine fragrance;
Joyfully with pollen You float onward.
You are autumn and the moonlight cordial;
Hope You rouse in the chukor's[1] heart.

Dear, You are the summer-heat's stream of water,
In both form and quality, indescribable.
In pre-winter, at Your feet's border,
With snow You pack the Himalayas.

Amid winter's foggy mists
Resound Your jingling anklets.
With spring's hues incipient,
You speak in motley language.

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