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By Debashish Kumar Har  Gleaming fire shines on a veil of mist, now creeping like a slender filament, and then gushing like a fountainhead; here for a while it forms a hundred veins that wend their way along the valley, then at that narrow bend it suddenly becomes a single strand. Nearby a burst of sparks is strewn about like golden sand. But see how the whole wall of rock is now aflame from top to bottom! What am I seeing is a mirage? An arena whose beauty is divine! Lend me, dear, your fleetest wings and lead me to Elysium! Now that when I leave this point and venture any closer to her, I see her only in a sort of haze! - A picture of woman of inexplicable beauty! Can any woman be so lovely? Am I allowed to see, in this recumbent form, the essence of all paradise? Does earth contain its counterparts? My Lady By Debashish Kumar Har I could see me beneath the veils of the angelic flowers- as vision froze at the meandering stream. The veil she wore-around gleamed- encircled by Minerva's leaves which did not allow her to be seen distinctly, her stance still regal and disdainful, she continued, just as one who speaks but keeps until the end of the fiercest parts of speech: ``Look here I am your lady, I am! How were you able to ascend the mountain? Did you not know that man is happy here?'' My lowered eyes caught sight of the clear stream, but when I saw myself reflected there, such shame weighed on my brow, my eyes drew back and towards the grass: just as a mother seems harsh to her child, so did she seem to me- how bitter is the savor of stern pity! |