Triveni Journal
1927 | 11,233,916 words
Triveni is a journal dedicated to ancient Indian culture, history, philosophy, art, spirituality, music and all sorts of literature. Triveni was founded at Madras in 1927 and since that time various authors have donated their creativity in the form of articles, covering many aspects of public life....
Why does the chill
of misty December eve
give me such thrill
when bards have sung
from history’s birth
the glory of summer.
At dark, in darkness,
when knees hug
and bodies curve
what warmth is that
that runs through the nerves
taking me
tothe beginning of beginning.
Heigh-ho, way ,
when my feet
kissed the shore
I ran about in glee;
built castles on the sand.
Wandering, I left my prints
all over its .
Who had rode
the waves at night
and braced them away.
When wayfarers
asked me my home
my heart knew
even as my tongue lied.
The ripe fruit must
but rest its burden
on the mother’s lap.
I’ve seen the seasons,
from passions known reason;
tread the road far
to the city of the setting sun
by the sea of anesthesia.
I cannot turn
;
my eyes cannot read
the read-words, .
The past a vision,
the present a passing;
reality ahead.
On the shore
flames from a fire
singes a song
as the foxes� howls
tear the sky.
But they send no shivers
up my spine.
The flame I had nurtured
glows in my hearth,
stern eyes
scaring darkness away.
From the pier
I’ve watched
the barks come and go,
biers, swayed by the waves,
drunk serene in dreaminess.
Mine is on the horizon
I see its sail loom larger.
The time has come
to cast off the robes
that cling on to me
for I must leave.