A Montage of an Arcadian Landscape
The early February dawn is cool,
The sky so blue and cloudless,
Leaves murmur in the breeze,
Birds twitter, preparing to leave their nests,
The stone paved country path
Leading to the quiet flowing river
Lies vacant in patient wait
For the first footsteps to fall.
Villagers walk to the nearby temple,
With thoughts so pure and mind so humble.
Farmers with spade and hoe on shoulders,
Have set out to till their fields far away.
Youngsters jog in track suits along village roads,
Leaving behind the city of smoke and soot.
The cattle are let out from their folds;
Raising dust, they trot along the muddy tracks.
A little girl with ebony eyes and wavy tresses, I saw.
Sure, an elfin of the grove!
Her flowing skirt playing in the breeze,
Pacing up a meadow,
Straying as in a dream land,
Flitting from flower to flower like a butterfly,
Gathering fresh flowers in her basket.
What for… I wonder!
May be to be strung into a garland
To adorn the family deity as an offering
With a plea to grant her some secret wish,
Or to be placed as a wreath
Moistening it with her tears
On the tomb of someone so dear
Still an aching memory, in her little heart..
Or to be gifted to her friends
In return for something, she craves
That might please her childish fancy
With what quiet delight
These scenes fill my heart to the brim
And how like a peacock in strut plumes
My mind, dances in frenzied ecstasy
On this cool February dawn!
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