She was not quite fair But she was bright She wore a necklace of coral beads In great astonishment I used to look at her With her large black eyes She looked straight She was about my age This adolescent maid. Her image is still alive in my mind. The southern gate of the room was open Against the pale blue sky The almond tree With its newly sprouted leaves Was gleaming in the morning light. She was dressed in a white sari Its black borders Winding around her young tender body Had fallen on her feet. On her two lovely hands Two gold bangles she had. On holidays at noon When I read books of stories On their pages only her image I found. She used to take me often to a mysterious land Which an unknown deity creates Beyond our reach Beyond my childish dreams. A fantasy embodied She cast the tender touch of her invisible shadow On my body and mind. To talk to her I was not so bold. I felt in my heart only a pain Like a softly sung tune - She was far, too far, As far as the highest branches of the shirish That sends a soft fragrance to the mind. It was the wedding ceremony of her dolls I was invited to attend In great fun The invitees made gleeful noises In diffidence I remained at one end I was tongue-tied and shy It seemed That evening passed in vain I don’t remember what was served on my plate But I remember to have seen A pair of feet hurrying back and forth Covered by the dancing border of a sari. In a stolen glance I also saw In her bangles were caught The pure golden rays of the sun. In her sweet voice She made repeated requests Back home half the night They resonated in my mind. Then by and by We became known to each other more Freely we began to mix. I began to call her by her nickname. I got over my shyness We began to cut jokes. Often for made-up mistakes She was mad with me in a mocking rage. Sometimes her rude words and cruel jokes Gave me pain. Sometimes she blamed me For my carelessness. Sometimes I saw her carelessly dressed – She was busy in cooking She didn’t feel embarrassed. For my idiocy which is natural in a male She used to rebuke me severely In her arrogance of womanly superior knowledge. One day she told me, ‘I know how to read palms.’ She took my hand in her hand And read it with her head bent She told me ‘You are luckless in love.’ I gave no reply The real proof, her loving touch, Conclusively disproved my lucklessness in love. Yet after all these I cannot forget the pain I couldn’t know her more! One can hardly be nearest to what is beautiful It ever remains far When nearer it urges one ever To know it ever more. My days, filled with joys and sorrows, Are ending in the western sky The harshness of summer Is mellowing in blue The glow of autumn on golden corn Is playing the holiday flute. Laden with dreams My boat is slowly sailing To an unknown land.SourceThe script ran 0.008 seconds.
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