On the Banks of Ganges
In the lap of holy Ganges
Mystic waves crawled upon him
Ripples of love embraced and
Divine showers Ganges wet his cheeks.
Saw him in reflections of depth
Blurred it away by blowing breeze
Hymns of nearby ramparts,
Echoed off and reverberated like holy smoke.
When moonlight lit the lamp.
Last shadows filled emptiness
Then saints preached "Death
As eternal stretches of life".
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