The mystic drum of India, classical India
When sounds it,
Vedic, Upanishadic, Puranic chants and drun beats
Strike us,
Hear I Kathakali, Bharatnatyam, Kuchipudi
At the rock-built temple gate, into the courtyard
The artoistes performing
With discipline, training and restraint
And the mantric, syllabiic words
Sacrosanct and holy
Fall with the drum taps
Purifying our mind, heart and soul,
A strange classical spirit keeps
Purging our within
Casting an impact of their own,
A mind taken away by the Vedas, Upanishdas and the Puranas
And we pursuing and perusing them to delve deep into
Lured by an older saga of tradition.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem