Sing out in pitches
That ride a crescendo
And peep over the walls
Of the craters on the moon;
Sing out in tones
That perforate stone walls;
Sing out in voices
That pierce complacence;
Sing out in lyrics
That shatter statics;
Sing out in notes
That overtake ecstasy
And pass over
To sublime delights.
Sing out, sing out –
With upraised arms
And with upturned faces
Let fly the spirits
In paeans of joy.
Refrain
The play acted out
And the audience has left!
Carrying this lamp of tears,
My mate, whom are you seeking?
1. The singer played his flute
Only to give heartfelt grief.
The play has played out
And the bird has left the cage.
Refrain
2. The dream tale I had been watching
Has sunk deeply in tears.
Where are you going, my little bird
Leaving your cage, where are you going?
Refrain
The tale I had been following in my dreams
Has drowned in tears
Is it so hard to say,
”I love you”,
When a word, a sigh,
A glance and a quirky smile
Dance into memories
Igniting a warmth
And the heart takes a leap
To eventually subside.
Heart is so recalcitrant
That it cannot look
At love in the eye
And proclaim,
”I love you”.
Only when intense moments
Have passed,
Never to return
When time’s compass revolved
Leaving one with eternal loss,
And clutching at heart
To soften the ache.
Steering the car into the highway,
Into the milky white thickness,
Into the veiled scenery
And the muffled sounds,
I turned wheels with caution
And the ghostly trees sped
Into a fog-smudged landscape
Which quickened slowly
From langurous slumber
When the molten orb,
In burnished splendour,
Dusted the misted air gold.
I shivered in the morning air
At the magic in the air.
Then the sun rose above
And shone upon my world
To lift the pall of fog
And Chase the magic off.
The horned crescent moon-
Luminous, slender and keen
Watched in resplendence.
In stellar splendor,
Stars stippled the ebon dome
And pricked the dark skies.
Shadowland of dusk,
In streaks of dark and white smoke
Etches waning day.
Deep sea stretched away
From shale and shingle and sand,
The world extended.
Footprints in the sand
Mark progress in weedy shore,
Marks of trailblazing.
Swing up, swing down,
Swing high, swing low!
From mango tree
Or guava tree branches,
The swing rope tautened
While the wooden seat steadied.
The legs kicked up
Into the clouds
And folded back
To pull into position
For the next kick.
Effervescent joy bubbled up
And echoes of raucous laughter
Carried back between swings
Up into the skies.
From the height,
The world could be seen,
From top to bottom,
As if from bird’s-eye-view.
The air became thinner
At the high point
Of the trajectory
When the swing swung
Back and forth like a pendulum.
A child in infantile chortle
And a hard-bitten yet jolly adult
Could both feel the abandon
Of tetherless freedom
And undescribed ecstasy.
All the cares of the world were shed
Until the swinging became slower,
Legs became weaker
Till they reached placid ground
And met with mundane realism.
RosyView 