Our Own Sentient Universe
In a harvesting autumnal evening
We gathered in the field of an old farm
Scattered haystacks all over,
Ripen paddy sprinkled aroma there,
Invigorated with hue and cry and loud laughter
Hide and seek we played,
Under the starry black sky
We all sat around the fire,
Watching the grizzled old man,
More stooped he was than a year ago,
In the fire some straws he put,
Some bamboo pipes he filled with rice
And cooked them with the heat of fire,
That night you sat by me,
Still I recall,
You and I were just kids, unknowingly
A bond we formed that didn’t dissipate,
Many autumns we traversed
With ups and downs,
We grew up in our own sentient universe
Far away from each other!
There exists between us a vast expanse of desert,
A cadence of wind sweeps over my oasis
With bemoaning sigh of love!
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