Like the autumnal full moon
Her sweet remembrances,
Those bygone agile days
Still peer into my mind sky.
I am in quest of them once again.
The sandcastle in the mango grove
Child game with my play mates
All canter towards me
Every day, thru the gaps of time
Sigh tearing out the ribs
Can I find them once again?
A little angel was my queen
And I was the sovereign
Very small was my family, very sweet
My squaw was so lovely, so suave
No tension, no thought to make mind heavy.
One clap make her loony
To gallop towards mango grove in single breath
Like SriRadha to SriKrishna
To catch butterfly & stand sand castles.
She sets fire with the fireplace
I go for grocery exchanging sarsens
Marvellous taste was the meal
Cooked with leaves, grass and soil.
The tide of the time was rushing to us
The tempest of earthly loads & sorrows
Engulfed those happy holy days
Snatched away my little queen
Burning the heart for time indefinite.
The heavenly pleasure of the sand house
Free from unholy and ambiguity
Mingled in the space
The life marched to a dismal cavity
The world is momentary
Wherein I shall vanish a day.
Whether any of you search your little squaw any more ? For them, I gift these lines.Please do write me .
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Though built upon the tide of time, your shrine hands down a divine spark that flared in this world. Though built of ephemeral materials, your shrine is repaired by devoted visits. The word SQUAW is well-used, for in moments of communion, two children were living in the lap of Nature. I like the CLAP which summons a receptive child to that alternate realm. Sometimes a detail calls us back. I remember myself and a neighbor girl pulling a toy wagon with a doll in it. We were journeying to a new dwelling place.
My dear Poet, your comments with your experience bears much value to me.So nice of you.