Love is the waves of a sea. Carrying those waves
Into my heart, I summoned you saying ‘River! River! ‘
Hearing that call, you became a courageous river
And like the Ganges, resolved making the sky hear:
‘Coming out of home, I will get mixed with the dream-sea
In this spring.’
Keeping all the debts of the Past behind,
You commenced running to get mixed with the sea.
This way a sea makes a river leave her home.
This way a sea makes a river bewildered.
Love is the storm of songs. Bearing that storm into my heart,
I summoned you cooing like a cuckoo. Hearing my call,
You, like a dry leaf, said binding the tamarind-wind
At the loose end of your sari,
‘Now it has been the vow of my life:
I won’t stay lifeless on the grass of earth any more;
Like the lovely cloud, I will fly fair in the unlimited sky.’
This way a storm summons
The dry leaves of earth.
If the sea summons, how does a river remain isolated?
And if the storm summons, how do the dry leaves
Lie down on the grasses of earth?
Likewise, o my Love, loving you when I summon,
How can a dead man’s sleep come down
Into the grave-abode of your love-wet eyes?
