Sans Vous
though it is spring
the trees in the park have woven
a new green sari to cover their barren branches
undressed by the gutsy winter
with clever caressing
some of them has bloomed new flowers
to attract bees and butterflies to enjoy their nectar
the air is filled with fragrance
wildly spreading the news of arrival of spring
in your absence my sky is azure
and proclaims no rays of hope
rather a gloom descends and overpowers me
throughout the days and might
can you call on me for a while even in my dreams
and transform my remaining hours
into a pastel of colours, so that
I can draw an eternal picture of
spring on my easel.
Rajkumar - Mumbai
You paint well with your words too. I think the word is 'night' insted of 'might' [Second-last quatrain, last word]. Good read, imaginative and colorful. Cheers. Subroto
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'Sans vous' the very words of romance and latin mother language here in this context French but essentially expressed in the colloquial English language draws in the attention of the reader to a heart-rending saga of an eternal lover and a inquistive traveller treading on the paths of a rollercoaster calld life.Life- French VIVE....Spanish-VIVIR meaning to live here is being described vividly as love...as only love is the driving force of life and its the language of love that blossoms as spring to be called Spring, recollects love on the dried leaves that comes along the way in wave hoping for the Spring again.But everything is transitory..we humans are also not permanent but its the only the feeling in the restless childlike mind longing for a toy- the object of a child's love....here the mother nature the plot of diaphanous love and its consequences to be trapped forever as a yearning in the easel as a memoir forever-a celebration of love with the writer....the now turned painter's assumption into a festoon of its triumph....a triumph to withstand life's odds with the air..in this air of love.