Walking along the bank
of the prancing village brook,
lined with screwpines
in full bloom spreading
musky scent
and shamelessly imitating the color of your skin,
thinking of you all along,
on the way to Krishna temple
you frequent,
I see a surge-
a bevy of giggling village belles,
your ***** friends,
march forward,
holding the hearts of young men to ransom,
teasing me on the sly,
for courting you so ardently.
Who can stop them,
a barrage breach of
Cupid's darlings,
tailing me by chance.
My eyes searched everywhere,
but but missed you so much,
today they miss,
the crown jewel they deserve,
to be in the middle,
that can be only you always!
On the imaginary crown of them
you would have shone,
added charm and embellished
their victory lap,
in the guise of temple visit,
to worship the Lord, lover nonpareil,
whose love life is our lore.
On long black tresses
they wore garlands of jasmine,
can't help pity their haste
and muddled taste,
you would have told your brood,
how jasmine would have felt,
unless perfectly adorned on hair, those
incomparable blessing in fragrance.
Dec 13, 2012
Dec 13, 2012 at 11:38 AM UTC
Walking along the bank
of the prancing village brook,
lined with screwpines
in full bloom spreading
musky scent
and shamelessly imitating the color of your skin,
thinking of you all along,
on the way to Krishna temple
you frequent,
I see a surge-
a bevy of giggling village belles,
your ***** friends,
march forward,
holding the hearts of young men to ransom,
teasing me on the sly,
for courting you so ardently.
Who can stop them,
a barrage breach of
Cupid's darlings,
tailing me by chance.
My eyes searched everywhere,
but but missed you so much,
today they miss,
the crown jewel they deserve,
to be in the middle,
that can be only you always!
On the imaginary crown of them
you would have shone,
added charm and embellished
their victory lap,
in the guise of temple visit,
to worship the Lord, lover nonpareil,
whose love life is our lore.
On long black tresses
they wore garlands of jasmine,
can't help pity their haste
and muddled taste,
you would have told your brood,
how jasmine would have felt,
unless perfectly adorned on hair, those
incomparable blessing in fragrance.
"Like a lily among thorns, so is my darling among the maidens"
Song of songs (2:2)
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