Like the eyes of a warrior that shuts
for a while and rejoins the battle;
Like the wings of a bird that freezes
There is Water in hard Pulp,
There is Water in pure Milk;
There is Water in thick Tears,
There is Water in Blood too;
I unbuckle her jaded black Jacket.
And lift from drapes of crimson Velvet.
With Eyes of a watchful Guard on duty,
I ogle at this naked man-made beauty.
Looking at you, I remember the first time we met:
sometime in my first grade, when the page-thirsty
line was running wild with its black army, trying to
capture every length and breadth of the white land
O’ King, I proudly salute what thou hast built,
As a timeless monument of immense beauty
But I staunchly salute Not what thou hast built,
As the greatest monument of divine love.