============ A K Das Mridul
your shriven whine from the mountain,
Here is me, just coming so close to you;
Thirsty stone in water fall stream to go on and on;
Bloody flower on shoot serves sweet fragrance,
You don’t know me!
Me the silver shine in far azure;
Cool rain coming down through the horizon,
You are blind though with eyes, could not see me;
Me the light of firefly in darkness;
The promise of shining sun emerged in the blue of azure,
She is my untouched love of my life forever.
Love is water color on canvas drawn by artist’s brush;
Crops that farmer gain at so sweating,
Love waking in the pen of poet so living poem;
Stress of life struggler rushing all the time,
Love on the eyes of lover tearing down in waiting;
The lover’s hour of worship shrouded by shine,
Love in soil emerging green field;
The very nectar water of thirsty served by mother’s hand,
Having on bosom the illusion of the soil’s affection;
The lover forever, ancient primeval man of the civilization.
I don’t come to pick up love, but only serve;
Not I even sought to find the agony of the lover;
Who had lost his torn cottage in the early war,
Bullet embedded heart to pain making all havoc;
Nobody wiped his tear,
On the crossing of mourn shadow, I still remain standing on blur field,
Love of grasshopper to have touch on bloody flower in hand,
My eyes looking oblivion;
Standing is victorious lover with red-green flag in the air,
Breezy air off stirring his calm eyes;
Poked sway of romance in the deep of love,
Love is fragrance from muddy earth;
On the rich green field full blossomed of humanities.
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Poetry Book: Musing Days in Love of the Bluebird.
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