Waiting to flower at the onset of monsoon,
a tall tree peers from the huge garden
across the road in front of my house.
Rains had come and gone in past years;
yet no signs of blossoms on the branches
Clouds again rumble over the evening sky;
a downpour continued through the night.
At daybreak I see a breath-taking sight:
the heavily branched tree in full bloom
silently dropping its flowers one by one;
a yellow white-carpet on the ground below.
They say it's a divine tree, planted on earth;
wish bearing, it fulfils desires of every one.
What a wish list one may dream to draw!
Can its fragrance purify the air poisoned
by serpentine spiralling of hatred, violence?
Picked up from earth and offered to Gods,
will it bind us in a wreath of celestial love?
*Parijat - the flower of Gods
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem