Scenery In the Period of Sound

Visual surroundings- Some of it are monotonous - Tiring are Some of it sometimes- Maybe traditional scenes Unknowingly builds the pinnacle - Of the dreamless minaret. Or- Talk about rubbish That rains incessantly Disturbs the Subconscious. Rather in the darkness of decade Or- It can be seen in the solitary silence- Painted canvas of exquisite scenery. Conducting these affordable scenes Covers the retina with a lot of glitter Landscape disoriented at the huge gathering. Sweaty hands on a busy day The magic of a sad face- Awesome romantic radiance Accustomed to seeing and done- Splendid revealed stanzas Still flew away by seeing- The volatile spotted bird flies away. When violin strings of rage and love Frightened, bewildered- trembling all over Frozen ice is then the lifeblood of Balmiki. It is difficult today to be on account of- The huge horizon of potentiality is now over At a limit of negligible fifty meters. The supply line is about to close Became apprehensive- The pure heart of the original poet Tragic song of rare moments of the heart On the barren desert is invisible On the barren ground. Then- Rubbing the gathering dark I keep the latent fire burning Dark- As soon as I see in lightless eyes The craftsmanship of the antique building woke up Lying in a black boat on the chest of Padma- Excellent co-existence with salty body Of the farmer with the bundles of paddy Beautiful scene of love on the waterbody. When meditating in the dark- Embodies the arrangement of scenes One after another- As if it were an illusory movie- The memorable past displayed. Slipping hands, rolls down- The wonder freak of time Measures the distance of time- The complex magic of loneliness. On the wall of careless white building Painted the rusty copper grating Cold air mixes with its hot air. Snarling of cruel time- All the traumatic events- The evil wound makes tired The sad eyes of the Sirius- By disturbance of fly buzzing Being extremely disturbed- Chooses he voluntary exile The simple heart of the unique worker. Melting the long arm of the cruel time Falls down- The plaster of the decaying building Of Baliati Palace- Tears rolled by its Salty brick-dust. Distant becomes near through binoculars- Far distant star becomes nearer In the illusory binoculars of the eyes It looks so beautiful- The Reflection of the ancient house. Noise of the crowd- The huge noise of the crowd The hall is full of noise Yet he is the eye of the mind Seeing through illusory binoculars- In the dry canal of Mayapur Sound of the beautiful rainy season. Suddenly- Murmured and called out- Flows- And in the darkness of night Fills her dry body Swells up the chest waves The exuberance of life flows In the presence of innumerable stars Stares at its water- That is the bright full moon. Lots of crowds, huge views Yet the particles of light in the sad mind- Dimly glows- Pushes into the illusory world- Dawn in the fog Twilight in the evening in the Gallinule's call In Coucals’ loud groaning Broken is the day’s silence In the chest of night- In the flickering light of the firefly Lonely Black Heron recognizes the path- In its ‘wag-wag’ sounds- The silence of the night gets broken. Submerged in the instrumental noise- Fleeing life in the frown of words The fish market licks and eats The Soul of Silence- The subconscious mind is overwhelmed On the wall of the monotonous scene Yet there is a lonely Sirius soul- Meditating – In the unseen colorful world.