The crescent moon has disappeared into
The pale light, of the Milky Way.
It loomed as an indistinct shadow around.
A tragic lassitude in tears remained in the distance
With a sword, and the tumult of thunder nearby.
The nightingale sang a tune in melancholy.
Like a rose, the memories of past life
Was lying in the lap of the mind.
In a night when the stars were in slumber,
When the midnight koel was humming,
I was standing outside your window
In the hope of seeing, your charming image.
Alone I waited and waited till the early dawn
And in despair, for not even hearing your treads,
I retreated with dismay in the heart.
You have drifted away from me into
A strange and motley domain;
Leaving me in the murk, to grope,
Where no stars shine; no beacon to direct.
I did spread my dreams under your feet,
And you tread on my dreams so harshly.
How many desires we wanted to hatch out?
How many dreams, we aspire will bloom?
Not even one desire could bloom;
Not a spike of grain could we harvest;
When can I hope to see you again
In this world of gloom, you have made for me?