Dawn
Manjit Kumar Mazumdar
The slumbering songs awakened,
Marking a splendour dawning,
Auspicating ecstasy in the insipid stripling,
Tender joy so sweetly flowing.
The veiling sun how richly gleams,
Lingering over the crystal streams,
Damnifying the tender drops,
That concrescened with the golden crops.
Cheering whistle of the mirthful wind,
Deepening the urge of tarantism,
Deeper and deeper I fall in a trance,
Entering a world of mysticism.
The tired soul and the aching eyes,
Up in the air with the feathery cries,
A balm for a bruised heart, gleamed in my sight,
Never did I dream it, in the light of the night.