This life that we call our own
Is neither strong nor free;
The moon drained white by day
lifts from the hill
Once more the Heavenly Power
Makes all things new,
You are like a pale purple flower
In the blue spring dusk
The lush of the river singing morning songs
Fish watch their ceilings turn sun-white.
Tell me, is the rose naked
Or is that her only dress?.
Mes de rosas. Van mis rimas
en ronda a la vasta selva
Cold and final, the imagination
Shuts down its fabled summer house;
Once as I travelled through a quiet evening, I saw a pool, jet-black and mirror-still.
'Twas the dingo pup to his dam that said,
"It's time I worked for my daily bread.
I am a kind word uttered and repeated
Who has not waked to list the busy sounds
Of summer's morning, in the sultry smoke
From my window I can see,
Where the sandhills dip,
WHEN the pine tosses its cones
To the song of its waterfall tones,
Within the flower there lies a seed,
Within the seed there springs a tree,
My heart, I cannot still it,
Nest that had song-birds in it;
In summer's mellow midnight,
A cloudless moon shone through
When summer days grow harsh
my thoughts return to my river,
This is not easy to understand
For you that come from a distant land
The wind stood up and gave a shout. He whistled on his fingers and
How still,
How strangely still
The lovely things that I have watched unthinking,
Unknowing, day by day,
The dawn is smiling on the dew that covers
The tearful roses; lo, the little lovers
It was passed from one bird to another,
the whole gift of the day.
They're burning off at the Rampadells,
The tawny flames uprise,
The small blue Arab stallion dances on the hill
like a glancing breaker, like a storm rearing in the sky,
This solitary hill has always been dear to me
And this hedge, which prevents me from seeing most of
O Child beside the Waterfall what songs without a word
The Gecko lying on his stone
Is always very much alone,
Moko Kahan Dhundhere Bande Mein To Tere Paas Mein
by Kabir
43 lines, 6 comments
|
|