Time closes in mindlessly
but my heart isn't oppressed
its powers I scoff vehemently
in my self-sufficiency I rest--

though there's thick mist in the horizon
my path I'll boldly chart
adversity shall not hold me in prison
from fervent faith I'll not part-

life is the lacuna
and the indifference
it offers no anchor
in its nonchalance -

its sea might be stormy and rough
and my sailing might be perilously tough
but my courage will be enough
to lead me to the faraway shore that I've desired

The moors are sombre and dark
as though my heart's weariness they bear
melancholic is the moon,  even more the stars
the foreboding  mood pervades everywhere

I am lost in longing and reverie
where has love fled?  What has it to declare?
Is life but a lie?  Is hope in denial?
What's right? What's fair?

Through the rain-stained window I gaze
not a shimmer of light anywhere
only the haunting cry of a birdsong
and the sighs of winds in the eerie air-

sleep will elude me tonight
I'll be laden with my unrelenting care
destiny is not of my choice or call
my brokenness I'll still need to wear.

THROUGH MY EYES -
BRAHMS’S HIDDEN POEM (1857)

Women I love with my heart and soul
But I am not made for matrimony
A domestic life and its trappings
Would destroy my creativity.

Clara I would protect and worship
With my life - she is perfection -
Love I would blemish and defile
If I were to mention - ‘Give me your affection’.

Ah, my beloved Robert is gone
In his tomb my heart is interned
My mentor, my friend, my inspiration
Alas, how little I gave my master in return.

My music is Robert and Clara
Our souls are by destiny wrought
History shall remember
But would understand us not.

[The reference to Robert is Robert Schumann (1810- 1856) and Clara, his wife (1819-1896). Johannes Brahms lived from 1833-1897.]

There's no real escape
the knot can't be severed
wedded to life and its singular thread
happy, sad, wise or absurd-

how the wheels do turn
each different in oscillation
one is caught in dizziness
dazed in total confusion

but none has any power
the nexus to untangle
though it's tried
from any angle-

ah, the angst of being born
to live in the inevitable
despite the most sombre landscape
one has to face the most unendurable

I can't reopen this letter
covered with the dust of time
among my hundreds of old books-
reading it would only make me sadder-

the rose that's withered
can't be remade anew
each flight of the bird
can't be repeated as it flew-

how I wished I were kinder
ready to spare and forgive
despite my every effort
I couldn't in my bitter grief-

now a desolate old man
my lonely tears offer no relief-
life and time wait for none
once fled-  lost is every living gift.

Mired in the ruins
     of the past-
    the whys of life
    upon me cast-

    it seemed to be

   forests without trees
  no water in the seas
  
  no greenness in the meadows
  no light,  only dark shadows

  soundless voices
  chagrin,    no joys

  love buried
  can't be reached

  Now:

the resurrection
the redemption

the letting go
not wanting to hold

the whys evaporate
when the self begins to liberate
all doubts fade
life to celebrate

I don't need
any gift-
it's sufficient
if I knew how to live