The Fountain
cold wind and showers in the morning
the Sun refuses to speak thro' the clouds
yet I dance.....
the days are cold
and long are the lingering nights
yet I dance...
never asleep, never calm, never silent
the grass with kiss of dews
the wind- elusive, leaves a distant whisper
the rock with pranks of falling leaves
a cat climbing on a tree
the trees-a plaything of seasons' whims
recipient of glory and gloom
stand in resignation
the color of flowers smelling hope
on the ripples
and then they come....
the footsteps crumbling silence and solitude
and the heaviness of my softness
my mind is sold
to a cuckoo's song
lovers filled in themselves
the air is sweet
couples with radiant smile
bubbling warmth on the winding path
children delightful
bright innocence, no malice, no disguise
grey hair
trying to drag the past glory thro' me
to fill the numbness of forgotten holidays
and the dull empty todays
I feel and fill
peace and joy
mirth and laughter
until the Sun's rays fade into twilight's oblivion
trembling and shivering
for a warm embrace
glad to find life's boom
but clad only in timeless gloom
I dance...
and dance and dance....
('I' is the fountain and not the poet)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem