Thoughts clear, mind bare,
The articulate, outspoken
Daughter of Tagore's land
Is pushed into the desert of despair.
...
Oh! My dream-sweet girl.
Irresistible I am today,
to meet, to see, to feel you.
But the Distance! The enemy No.1
...
Shakuntala, let me confess,
Miserably I fail to compose
A poem on you.
...
Blows the wind,
Windows open.
The clear sky
The Moon adorns,
...
Last night, a wild wind
Banged on my windows,
Entered and whispered
In my ears, “The Spring will
...
Why so disturbed I am?
Why does my garden of
joy turn so pale.
...
Stream of wisdom flew with time,
Calm and quiet, pure, unstinted,
With sweetness infinite,
Which I never cared for,
...
The flower withstands the heat
and dust of the day;
wrath and blows of the storm.
Tired and exhausted in the evening.
...
The inculpable, lotus-eyed dainty damsel,
An invaluable creation for agog aesthete.
Stripped from the flowery region of the universe,
And placed in the mel-harmonic gamut,
...
My poetry is lost somewhere in
the din of selfish shouting;
bitten by greedy and spiteful
teeth of earthly craving.
...