The First Love Poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

No night is equal to the first night;
No love is equal to the first love.
The first love and the first night will be
Soft with youth’s dew and hot with youth’s fire.

The first love develops no wrinkles
When bones turn brittle and glands, sapless.
The first love has no age in one’s mind.
The withered one returns to its spring.

It’s in eyes where the first love is born
And in those eyes it would live its life.
Confronted even after decades,
These eyes would bear the same dew and fire.

The conversation of eyes is a form
Of communication that eyes alone
Can translate and to replace it,
No language is yet born anywhere.

The code the pair of twin eyes conveyed
Cannot be decoded by other eyes.
The first love might be an infantile death.
It won’t mar the pleasure of its first birth.
16.02.2009