I rise up with the sun in my domestic dark.
I know the rotund touch of chair-tops
And the hulk of tables as I move to preview
The hill on the horizon from my balcony.
A change of seasons. These days the canvas seems
Utterly whitewashed, the hill has disappeared
In cloudy, overlapping mist.
Slowly the day unveils the shapes and mass
Of tall treetops, fronds and foliage,
Faintly astir; they loom over terraces and roofs,
Damp with traces of dew or drizzle.
Bolder sunlight now scores
A pale blue streak across the eastern sky.
The veil of mist remains in place above the hill,
Unseen, but imagined and known.
Existence precedes perception
And cannot be long denied.
That obscuring veil of mist becomes
A diaphanous gauze of translucence,
Asserting hill-crest and hill-rock
Along my trans-urban horizon.
- - - - - -
Yadavagiri, Mysore, October 2014
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I enjoyed the opening stanza.... So realistic! When there is only faint light one feels the rotund chair tops and the hulk of the table while proceeding to the balcony.... The mist covered sky being compared to a white washed canvas is a great image and the hills and trees slowly emerging from cover is beautiful! That obscuring veil of mist becomes A diaphanous gauze of translucence, Asserting hill-crest and hill-rock Along my trans-urban horizon. A picturesque description of the scenery watched through a diaphanous gauze of mist!