A reply To The Sayings Of My Dearest.
You negated my second coming
As you launched your full-fledged wings,
In the Chidakash as a liberated soul,
Winning Atman, -the grandest goal.
Mine is a haggard's staggering,
In the labyrinths of reason-headed profits,
Of base instincts and love-masked scorpions,
And lagging more behind than forwarding,
Like a tiny-boat in tidal cross-current.
My ego beyond apparent goodness,
My hidden blindness in the showy-knowledge,
And my innate poverty to hold the coverage,
To know the self and end the prosaic tale,
Hardly merit for escape velocity.
Yet may it be, I suppose,
As often all reasons wither
From my poetry and prose,
And the mantle of my spiritual master,
More than a rudder sails on the tsunami,
Of my every-day's struggle of filthy living.
May your word be fruitful like a Divine-Bard,
As I already have a crack that turns big to bigger,
And sure I am to have a non-dimensional figure.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is a confessional love. The character of 'Dearest' is not an imaginary one. She is a damsel-nun with Divine glory. In series of talks she impressed me that this is her last birth, and she wished the mine to be so.