Bijay Kant Dubey
The Hilly Rivulet
Traversing a long tract from the upper highlands
Comes it babbling by, murmuring by the small hilly river,
Singing the song of the water,
Nature, landscape and vegetation.
The solitude as such that there is loneliness all around,
Everything but calm and serene,
There is none around,
Away from human haunt and habitation.
The landscape full of ups and downs, highlands and lowlands,
Spread over a vast tract of land
And the hamlets and thorps scattered around
But at a distant far off.
In between the hills and its cluster, it passes through
Singing the song of life and the world,
Man and his coming and going,
Life and its cycle of birth and death.
The large chunks of rocks lie in on its bed and the water
Somewhere falling upon a rock,
Somewhere crossing over a high up rock placed over
Its way, zigzagged and long.
To flow and foat by, to run and sway off with a musical murmur
Hear I standing under the wild trees
Dotting the banks of the rivulet
And the distant hills glistening blue in sunshine.
The rivulet will flow for ever till the course of it
And the waters will remain the same,
Glassy and crystal clear,
But the man will not remain the same observing the flow of it.
Crossing the highlands and downlands, it has to go, to go
Till it mingles with the main river,
Crossing the woods, hills and regions unknown
Where I cannot be with.
Standing on the bank of the river, sitting on a stone block,
Hear I music, the music carried by the flowing waters
That today I am here marking the flow and music
But may not be again to hear it.
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