Beloved,
I have come to take you to a land
far away
where, clad in virgin greeneries
the sun looks young,
where, the mighty river of eternality flows
with the symphony of life,
where, there is neither east, nor west
where, the great civilizations sprang
before the pyramids came,
and before the Tower of Babel
divided man.
There, on the innocent rustic slopes
when autumns blooms on the mustard inflorescence
all yellow with gold–
it seems
the single strand of hair
lost from the lock of the golden-haired princess
has looped itself all over the slopes.
Long ago,
when warriors on the bank of the Mediterranean
plotted of war in Egypt or Crete
my people planted life in the soil
and sang to the serene, silent moon
all through the night!
Long ago,
when people far way
invented battles to buy even the sky
my people sang
of the Love of Radha and Krishna
on river banks.
When lords and fairies
in their stories for children
rove across the sea to kill and win
our grannies told stories of Savitri
who challenged death for Satyavan,
her love.
Come beloved!
I will take you to a land
that is neither east, nor west
that is above the map of your corrupt cartographers
yes, the land where spring drinks life
from every bead of dew,
where my mother plants songs in everything she
touches
where my father plants dreams,
in every single step
and where every tree is human
every stone a deity;
come, let’s take a flight
and transcend
to the country of love
to that country of my dream
where directions dissolve into a smile
where the the ocean raises its breast
for the moon to touch and kiss
and silently whispers
the deeps sighs of love.
Come beloved,
it is more than midnight.
We ought to be moving now!
