Monday, February 28, 2005
The day begins as golden rays
Crave to touch its crystal flow;
It flows through the forest’s murmur and music,
It flows through the wild flower’s purple glow.
The woods are dark, the grass is young,
The hearts are fresh, the song is old.
The time is morn, the stream proceeds:
a silver charm in a mesh of gold!
The midday sun is shining bright,
the mind is fleet, the stream serene.
The woods have thinned, the mist remains,
Silver fabric with a golden sheen.
The plains welcome with open arms,
The crops are ripe, the men rejoice!
The river flows by the banyan tree,
the water splashed by the village boys.
The leaves that rustle, the birds that sing,
The bees that hum, the river that flows
Like the blanket that covers as dusk sets in,
The blanket that spreads, the dusk that glows.
The river banks are far apart
Distanced by the city lights
Patient and silent, as the city sleeps,
In a starry tent on sleepless nights.
The woods are far, the mist is cleared,
The music has stopped, the night is done.
The stream is here at its journey's end,
The river and the sea merge as one!