Song of Reminiscence

Song of Reminiscence

 

I lit a candle in solitude

With it I lit my dreams,

True, I saw a miracle really

And my childhood smiling at

my youth. . . . .

 

The time! That morn! The dawn!

Blessed was I much more than now am I,

I sigh for my golden days! Pleasant for,

The never-returning dawn, dance of twilight in the lawn!

 

The years, stolen moments, passed by . . .

I know such goes the subtle thief: Time!

Yet my heart aches for those precious eves,

Let present sink into oblivion, coveted past be back!

 

The silent point I lived but for a while,

Neither did I touch, nor did I feel,

A deep breath sighs for the rainbow I never touched.

And the solitude in the midst of crowd I weep upon now!

 

The darkness touches my soul,

Ire and malice make the night ever-veiled:

This is not the dismay, not the worried illusion,

But being lost in sleep half-awaken!

What’s this but the dance of summer ever-sprung?

Blazed sky at night, intervened though,

The pandemonium of the deaf and the dumb!

Colourful procession of satanic verses!

 

With but a gesture—

Spreads the flame in my mind, my soul.

Endless darkness pierces only but once—

Charms of sylvan life catch my sight.

 

Again fades away the wraithlike shadows;

The world within waits in the transparent darkness—

Stops even the eternity. Ah! Awful!

Focused on the greatest pledge ever-made!

 

What can bet the music of silence?

Who can bet the God within you?

What can bet the subtleness of soul?

Who can bet a friend having a heart superior to Heaven?

 

I wondered, I’m wondering, and perhaps I will be wondering forever . . .

The answer will be found in the lap of Eternity remaining always unexplored . . .

The sweetest songs always remain unsung, the sweetest dreams undreamt, the sweetest moments untouched . . .

 

Life’s but a dream dreamt by an idiot, a walk never walked, a beauty never felt . . .

Love is the soul within not without, a feeling never truly felt, a journey never ended . . .

And never will the sweetest words do the least justice to love and so never to life . . .

 

Nature—the greatest temple, the elevated column, the beating of souls

Sometimes a hidden soliloquy breeds some cryptic symbols;

Thereupon men pass but silently through the never-ending woods

The ancient trees just watch them in their practised eyes!

 

Many an echo wafted from a land—distant, deep, so enigmatic,

Darkness approaches all at once through a sublime greatness!

All the colours, smells dare leave answers to those souls.

 

Some smells as if soft in the tune of the organ;

Greened in a prairie, soft as the touch of a child;

The others—winners, wealthy . . . yet alone!

Brought down to earth from the sky-like height . . .

 

 

I’ll adore this silent mountain forever,

And this forest that hides my sight from the farthest horizon.

I still stare at the wide sky

Consoling myself with the endless enigma spread universe around

Celestial silence, unmixed bliss.

 

 

Where the mind is without fear, audacity of hope

Makes the melody of wind through the boughs of trees.

I blend that music with the endless silence;

The springs peep ceaselessly, and

The present teaches love for its presence.

All the voices fade away to sink me into the ocean of thoughts.

I’ve always adored such eternal nectar.

 

All the sensibilities kiss our soul with the greatest mystery ever-unexplored.

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