Why does the springtime come, a vernal breeze
Fathoms not, although perceived.
Alas today, like Phalgun wind, Whom does mind long for–
My mind does not see.
Notes of the cuckoo's call,
To everyone they beckon–
Say they: "Please come and sit close by;
This day arrives not frequently."
A game of color in the worldly sphere,
From form-free is the cosmic play of form only–
It goes on giving and requests naught;
For the spring's advent no debt is there.
Sarkarverse article
Audio recording
Upon a drab but vast white canvas, He applies the dyes of multicolored beauty... for free.
ReplyDelete