Wednesday, September 27, 2023

A new day on the rise

(2773)  Dak diye diye balechile

You had told, ever calling:
"Wakened, rise all you asleep."
Mixed inside both sky and air went
This same call, like shade of wasteland-tree.

A desert's heat on sands of early morning
And in woods with grass, fresh and green...
But in a floral garb at core of psyche,
Hair-braids tied and made to swing.

Upon horizon the call went a-gliding
Behind Eastern Mountain[1], a crimson dawn rising...
To the evening sun's glow ruddy
With ambrosia of love's stream.

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