Spring
Bathed in nectar dew drops, now
the damsel spring stealthily
tiptoes into the hamlet
with all its strength.
The south breeze plays
fifth symphony on tender new leaves,
flings the grey garment of fugitive winter
on the tether of time.
The red modesty of cassia flowers
lazily thrown on the elevations,
sheuli flower hides her whitish face
in dark screen.
Forest being released from solitary confinement
bedecks with colors of nature
snow white swans conquest the copper sky
Jasmine frequently haunts dark nights.
The sun rises
on the forehead of a newlywed bride
as if it is a circular spot of vermilion.
Man in remaining incognito
for years, has come back
to the war fields of life,
perhaps he wants to pay
his debts of soul.
Somebody, in quest of a blue envelope
tinted with multicolor of unknown flowers
but the letter box of young heart
wide open, as the darkness of suspicion
has broken its lock,
the love knots of past love
lost in the time treacherous sand
anxiously asks for identity.
Still on the debris of sand castle
built of hopes and promises,
a young poet composes a lyric
with inks of blood and shades of despair
his pen of eternal pain proclaims,
“Spring has set in again
to solace thousands of broken hearts.”
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