The Discontent’s Heart

I

The moon solitary, the sky in itself

The heart lonely each time we met;

Hope is dead, even the stars have set

Just the reek shimmers within the self;

Is this life, we call ?

Breathing mere, alive just

The body lonely,

The spirit dumped. ?

Even with partners I met on way 

We trod alone, apart in own sway;

Beyond these lights, off and on

The house will then rest alone

By itself, shrivelled and forlorn

Waiting… after I am long gone

Glass eyed but still looking on

Absent steps, path overgrown.

Why insist, my dear, for my tale bland

Weaves insipid, its joyless strands ?

* * *

Blistering frenzy would have brough him to these ruins

Else who would light a lamp in storm this booming ?

Speck every must hold his prayers pure

With God must he have each form cured 

Quenching the thirst of burning thorns

Palms loving, the dripping waters hot.

And if he’d find a shining golden rock

Reflect it’d his clear, own broken heart.

Ere the traveller wipes the blood spatters clean

Know, he raised this garden in barrens rocky.

* * *    * * *

Adaptations of poems

written and sung by Meena Kumari.

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