Shivering coolness all around
My village, my native land
Under the December; whisper's sound
Of the humankind, attended in band
By the side of flaming fire;
As snow-fall so dire.
Cries among them a wild owl
A mysterious beautiful tune
And 'mid the night, foul-
A peep through snow-flake, of the Moon.
With run-out and exhausted heart
Standing I was alone by her hut.
Leaning against a wooden gate
Stood I lone to keep my plight;
But no traces of my mate!
As if, I was lost my right
By the benumbing winter season-
Except it, behind no reason.
Of two and half hours
At least one meaningfully passed by,
To see the beauty and powers
Of the downing flake; asking no Why
Someone nearby or far away,
Choose I my choice, my way.
My horse, bound with a stake-
Gives his harness bell a shake
To mark, if there is some mistake
Seeing intense snow-fall or snow-flake.
Though everything premeditated,
I shake his bridle decorated.
Now, it was the time to go home
A mile yet to cross; but the way-
Covered with white veil and dome
In the December, not the May.
Still, I will come back again-
To cross far far way!
Pijush Biswas's Other Poems
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