బైరెడ్డి కృష్ణారెడ్డిI fail to recollect where exactly
the journey has begun
Nor can I understand
toward which destination
this boundless voyage is
I just can hope to comprehend
vaguely though
where I sojourn at the moment
Not much time is left it appears
for the Sun
to vanish into the evening horizon
The ceaseless travel since dawn
it seems has longed for a while’s relax
for the Sun has masked His face
in the shade of the clouds
It appears the ride has
paused not for a rest
for the clouds unveiling the masked Sun
bathe in the far-spread hues
and creep across the firmament high
resembling the dancing of a while
the dancing of a while only
on the dramatic stage painted blue
before fading into
endless Time and endless Space
Through the lush green woods in the front
and the thick-boughed thickets not afar
the breezing lutes of the strings of the harp
The chirping murmurs of sparrows
and whispering melodies of parrots
from the plentiful bushes close at hand
A patting somebody from behind
with a passioned greeting addressing me
Yes! It is SHE!
So long ago! And long since too!
So what!
My memory has failed not me
just as hers too has failed her not
It is the self-same SHE!
My extended arms in curious haste
to hold close to the bosom
that long removed bond of selves and souls
despaired by the futility of an endured wait
A flash of a second! A startling shock!
Stunned! Wonder-struck!
SHE is formless!
A basket of wild date canes
half-entwined
hanging down her arm on the left
weighs down her slender waist
into a glowing crescent moon
Wild date canes not entwined
like slanted arrows sharp
gripped in her palm of the right
look up into the firmament overhead
as if in the quest for new fathoms
The canes in her right arm grip
with an exclaimed gaze
toward the earth at her feet
as if to unfold the wondrous secrets
of the mysteries of their births
Ever since the day SHE entered
my inner self chiseled and layered as if
the living image of my inmost recesses
which I tenderly nurtured
and those canes hanging down her arm
and those yet to be entwined
I could realize minute by minute
are but the priceless treasures
of my creative self
On the feather-like meads
now sitting by ourselves
SHE and me
in a speechless console
Over the moist cheek her eyes have sizzled
in the melancholic silence her lips have spilled
the fond memories of the grief-struck past
the darkened shades of the throbbing hearts
All out of a naked involuntariness
the formless SHE
graciously takes my hand into hers
The canes in her grip on the right
and the canes in the basket
yet to be entwined
in a fraction of a moment
change their forms
into a cluster of blooms
in my book of verses
Her silence breaks into a moan
and breathes out sighs of
reminiscent ponderings
See! Do you at all remember
these verses! Mine! Yes!
Mine alone!
Which you yourself wrote
See! Look here!
Look at these poems!
Which you are writing still
Yes! Mine! Mine alone!
A wonder again!
Ah! How come!
How come SHE is with me
here by my side
in this meadowed sojourn of mine
for her dwelling is a faraway country
across the paths she trod on
to these sojourning meadows of me
the formless SHE is beginning
to fade into timeless spaces
Relinquishing little by little
her formless body
assuming her bodily form
little by little SHE now vanishes
into naught little by little
Where exactly has my journey begun
I fail to recall in the faintest yet
But now I hope not to recollect
vaguely though
I sojourn where at the now
I now feel like comprehending
vaguely though
toward which destination
this boundless voyage is
It strikes as if this voyage is
toward those brilliant clouds
of rainbow hue
toward that dramatic stage
of the sky painted blue
toward that setting Sun
vanishing into the evening horizon
*
పెద్దన్న
కృష్ణుడు
శ్రీనివాస్ గౌడ్
కృపాకర్ పోతుల
తిలక్ బొమ్మరాజు
కవనమాలి
స్వాతి కుమారి
Add comment