To start with she hesitates, if at best,
Then unwinds, loosens up, forward to move
And begins to show tides like interest,
Immerses then in art of making love,
Not in any hurry to reach the crest,
A dove before, she now gets into groove,
No mean moist, in mood, looks for privacy
To give immense joy as spouse so happy.
___________________________
Translation (Ottava Rima) | 27.08.2025 | love, passion
Note: Here is a verse (in Shardul-vikridit meter) from Bhartrihari’s Shringaara Shatakam (hundred verses on love and romance). This verse is about the love-making ways of women-- how from being hesitant initially she becomes so passionate to leave aside all shyness. Here is the transliteration:
Pra-angaam eti mana aagana aagata rasam jaata abhilaashaam tatah,
Sa-vridam tat anu shlathi krtat anu pra-dhvasta dhairyam punah |
Prema aardram sprhaneeya nirbhara rahah kridaa pragalbham tatah,
Nihshanka anga vikarshana adhika sukham ramyam kula stree ratam || 60 ||
Winter is on its way
With long nights and short day
With chilled winds of fragrant clay
On lovely cold nights, stay in the fireplace way
With the joy of being around pets and their nay-nay!
Winning winter in all hot way
Hot coffee, hot toast, or a hot soup
Vapours pour out in whatever we say
Wearing thermals, gloves, and what may
Cold and chilled are the days on the way.
Working in winter is a tight way to say
Sitting comfy with a coffee and a book
Enjoying through the winter window
A well-wished way to witness Nature Play
Welcoming winter with a wish and a pray
Welcoming winter with a bouquet & a song
Wild cold immerses us in wine & white snow
With the oven smelling too good colours of cakes
Watching all the stack of pantry with cool eyes
Welcoming winter with both nay and yay!
When the last glow of daylight is seen
and the first shades of the night begin
the merging moment melts
and is tethered to Twilight's subtle gleam
where my mind is interlaced,
in sentimental thoughts
wrapped by twilight
I'm aware of windblown wildflowers
and weeping birdsongs
that cry for the end of the day
as night immerses the last flickering light
from the red threads of the horizon
where the sunset's final spark vanishes
and the first star of the night shines
in the darkened region of the sky
like a point of light
that welcomes the moon as it rises
in its majestic glow
offering shades and silhouettes
across the landscape
where my eyes gaze at floating luminous fireflies
that dance before me
beneath the dark-hued clouds that hide the moon
before parting allowing its radiate glow
to wash over me
in a timeless mesmerizing magical moment
of masterstrokes painted by Nature
that hangs before my eyes on its earthly canvas
of monumental proportions
that mirror the sensitivity of my soul
View
It is in harmony with the radiance of the sea.
With hidden clouds in the sky.
With the breeze of the colors in the seasonal winds.
It drives the waves with the sparks of the sun.
Brutal hard rocks in the mountains.
The color of the soil is with cow patterns.
Sometimes he takes off his hat on his head.
His image turns from darkness to light.
Rocks decorated with stones are falling.
Falling rocks raise the ground.
The rising earth tones the light.
Its colors spread with the breeze.
The smell in the soil ripples with the rain.
Flowers sparkle in the grass.
The soils soften with the scent of flowers.
The breeze of the wind permeates the nature.
The trees are approaching each other.
Trees multiply as they walk.
Vines wrap their trunks.
It leaves traces on nature.
Red ripe apples among the branches.
It hangs from its branches.
The greenery on its leaves is looking at its branches.
It sheds its seeds on the ground from its branches.
Shines black under the stars.
It immerses nature with the color of darkness.
It preserves nature with the remaining sounds.
The landscape rises and sets.
Being in ignorance of our true being or Self
If we say ‘good’ is what takes us nearer to the truth
And ‘bad’ is what immerses us deeper in delusion or in trance
Then perhaps we may look at thoughts, words and deeds objectively
An action is preceded by thought and thought originates in the heart
If heart is quiescent then there is no thought and hence no ego
The actions then done are in resonance with will of God
Simply because false ego-identity has disappeared
So, what then is karma but action in ignorance
As long as ego-identification exists, karma plays out
However when we wake up in the dream, the life play ends
The dreamer and dreamed now one, all that is, is time dissolved bliss
a delicious pain engulfs us
aching bones drenched in bliss
presence immerses itself in the mix
which in truth is is-ness of being-ness
secrets divine whispered to us alone
in an unending continuum of time
beauteous in its presentation
The sky edged at the hazy horizon, a solemn slate,
where the raucous cloud clumps on wings of storm ride.
For the sun to set for the dreary night they don’t wait,
unleashed, in rampant rage they well up and glide.
The opaque sky is shaken and shattered asunder,
deluge of moaning drops descends in molten torrent.
The endless emptiness quaked by the tearing thunder,
burns in forked flashes in the fraction of time transient.
The fleeting lightning designs cold lattice of azure fire,
lazuli light leaves the somber sound behind,
striking me with deafening echo in the rattling air,
that blazes for an instant making me almost blind.
The sound of falling sky sinks in the quietude of my core,
as the sapphire light shimmers in the serene essence,
I view the lilac lining of dismal cloud I haven’t seen before,
my soul immerses in the bay of bliss with flow of silence.
_____________
May 2, 2023
Contest : Up To 20 Lines
Sponsored by : Sotto Poet
The edge of sky engraved in horizon, a somber slate,
as on the wings of surging storm nimbus clouds ride.
For the spent golden sun to go down they don’t wait,
unleashed, in rampant rage they well up and glide.
The mute monolithic sky is shaken, shattered asunder,
peels of ebon pile descend in molten deluge of torrent.
Encompassing emptiness quaked by seismic like thunder,
flames in forked flashes in a fraction of time transient.
Cracking lightning blazes in the cold motif of azure fire,
lazuli light leaves the lingering sound to languish behind,
strikes me with deafening wave, rattling the layers of air,
burnt to ashes by the flashes that make me almost blind.
The sound sinks in the quietude of deep introspection,
the sapphire light shimmers within my serene essence.
The lilac lining of consumed clouds kindles my vision,
my soul immerses in cosmic bliss in the stream of silence.
____________
August 2, 2022
For A Brian Strand Premiere Choice Contest
Gnarled hands
With hands gnarled from age
She works the soil
slowly, sometimes painfully
with determination.
She is driven to show them,
they think she’s too old.
“Let us do it “ they chirp.
“We’re young and strong
it won’t take us long.”
She sits and watches
Remembering the joy
The satisfaction
The pleasure
damp rich soil brought her.
This is her serenity, her peace her joy!
They finish the work she started.
Did it bring them the same feelings?
To them, it was just work
A task, Get it done they said.
That’s their mantra
“Just get the job done”.
They say their goodbyes,
Pecks on her cheek
Gentle hugs, she’s frail you know.
They leave her,
she sits for a minute,
sits in her beloved garden.
Looking over their work
she sighs.
They don’t get it, they don’t get her!
She kneels on sore knees,
immerses herself in the feel of the dirt,
works the soil with those gnarled hands
soaking up the sun,
listening to the sounds of the garden
Rejoicing in the day!
She plants seeds she hid in her pocket,
hidden from them.
She says a silent thank you to them
for caring and worrying about her.
She knows they mean well
They just don’t understand.
Above the horizon at the edge of sky, a somber slate,
on the wings of surging storm nimbus clouds stride.
For the spent golden sun to go down they don’t wait,
unleashed, in rampant rage they all well up and glide.
The silent seamless sky is shaken, shattered asunder,
peels of ebon pile descend in molten deluge of torrent.
Opaque emptiness shuddered by the tearing thunder,
burns in forked flicker for a fraction of time transient.
Flash of lightning blazes in the cold lattice of azure fire,
lazuli light leaves the lingering sound to languish behind,
strikes me with deafening wave, rattling the layers of air,
transfixed in the open by sudden flare I go almost blind.
The sound sinks in the quietude of innate introspection,
the sapphire light shimmers within my serene essence.
The lilac lining of consuming clouds kindles my vision,
my soul immerses in divine bliss at still depth of silence.
________________
May 9, 2022
For A Brian Strand Premiere Choice Contest
Fashion is my passion,
No limit but new creations,
No compromise on any situation,
Makes me trendy,
Leaving everyone in awe awe,
Long, short, soft or fluffy,
Makes me comfy comfy,
Fashion is my passion,
Immerses me with satisfaction,
Paints my day with vogue and style,
V.I.P treatment all the time,
This is my style
The glow of the tree
So pretty, immerses me
In the tranquil transparency
Of colorfully illumined clemency.
swathed in warm purring waves of rapturous bliss
engulfing our heart in endearing caress
spacial consciousness on this earth domain
dances in rhythm to throb of soul unstained
soundless thunder within reverberating
form in formlessness by surrender melding
essence of presence in childlike innocence
immerses self fully in playful parlance
life movement kinetic and void potential
dynamic singularity miracle
wherein we dwell flowing like a gentle breeze
each touch intimate in embrace and release
13-January-2021
(syllabic rhyme)
Our God is bountiful because
He takes our care relentlessly,
with cornucopia of blessings.
Our God is bountiful because
His benediction is seamless sea,
immerses shore of life in serenity.
Divine ambiance He implants
with lattice of bliss in our soul.
On the path of truth we walk wise.
Our God is bountiful because…
November 15, 2020
Contest : Our Bountiful God
Sponsor : Julia Ward
That we be as He, He immerses us in the realm of illusions, to employ free will for choosing resonation with the omnipresent love vibration. The doer, momentarily separated from the source within the dream, merely needs to recognise and choose alignment. Voluntarily.
Senses five bemuse
Our spiralling thoughts confuse
Let love be our muse
14-August-2020
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