My Love, Ageless Poem by Sanjib Saha

My love, how old is your gaze? Thirty, forty, fifty, or more?
Is your smile still radiant
and vibrant?
Or has it turned golden,
like a melancholy dusk?

Perhaps, perhaps not,
it shouldn't be,
because the love
that wandered
from one end to the other,
from dawn to dusk,
in your courtyard,
remains eternally youthful,
like a beautiful teenager
or a lovely maiden,
radiant like the stars in the sky.

Fragrant like the evening's twilight, eternal.

In the intervals of play,
touches that were innocent,
do they ever mature?

As you walk away,
you say, 'I'll go as far as Kashmir
or Istanbul,
leaving my mark on this earth.'

Like the colorful clouds of afternoon,
your presence doesn't fade
into darkness;
happiness and dreams flow incessantly, like rain,
leaving marks on the river's breast, flowing ceaselessly.

Then, my heart wants to say, 'Najrana, when you disappear beneath the kadamba tree's shade,
I say your age doesn't grow,
you don't die,
because I love you.'

— Sanjib Saha