I wish not to meet you - III
I wished your paeans to pen
O in our exclusive den,
But most such dreams—nine of ten,
Were buried before began.
For poems I’ve now no words,
Our den’s now nestled by birds,
Ere blossom have died all buds,
For what I wonder meet you.
I tried even to melt me,
To filter all me from me,
And light a lamp within me,
But too late ‘tis to meet you.
There’s darkness under a lamp
And all undergrounds are damp,
I’m getting used to my camp,
It’s too late O to meet you.
I once wished brightness of Sun,
All shadows in life to shun,
Far from my Self I now run,
It’s too late O to meet you.
In flowers’ gone old fragrance,
From steps has gone usual dance,
Between us there’s no romance,
Far too late O to meet you.
Carrying old tuneless harp,
Old memories no more sharp,
With life’s mixed up woof and warp,
I wish no more to meet you.
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Inspired by a Gujarati Poem by Rishabh Mehta
Quatrains (rhyme and refrain) |06.03.2024| lost love
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