The tear drops trickled in the oyster of the mind
Enlivened into radiant pearl.
Incandescent sighs kept hidden in the heart
Emerged, as nascent sweet melodies.
The jingles from the temple of pulsating hopes
Awoke, the insipid, dormant senses.
The buds remaining in the dark stupor in penance,
Began, to smile in the golden dawn.
The ornate spring has arrived in our souls,
Our zealous desires have blossomed.
It was not me who kissed you in your slumber;
But the rays of the emerging moon.
Not my nail which scratched your cheeks;
It was only the cupid’s arrows.
Not me, who hugged you, titillating your soul.
Could have been the scented breeze, from the garden.
Or the pleasant wintry gloom which
Enthralled, enveloping you in its mantle.
I will just hide in the slough of your breast
As a reverie, my charming cherub,
Making my heart throbs as the sweet tinkle of bells,
In a manner of worshipping your loveliness.