Tuesday, November 17, 2020

In disguise, an eternal blessing

(1762)  Sammukhe chile arale lukole

You had been front and center, but You hid behind a screen;
Did You go off and lose sight of me?
Such is Your Cosmic Game, a sport with the heart!
Tender One, why did You become severe?

Inside the flower bud You had been in shape of spring;
With anguish about thunderbolts, You became a ghastly heat.
Upon lightning's thunderclap, affection went a-sailing,
The pollen having become stonelike, unfeeling.

Now Your particulars I have conceived;
Staying hardhearted, it is not Your thing.
Once more You'll be tender, You will be full of honey;
You will smile at heart's core with melody and beat.

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