The Fuscous Sky!

Ujjal Mandal, India

The sky looks fuscous and heavy 
When the sun hides his cheery face 
Into the cloak of clouds as like
The air loses his sweet rhythm when
Nightingale stops her healing songs. 

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Where once her warm and sanguine heart

fell ashen grey to rest in cold base dirt

high over the familiar bush and shrub

proud crimson blooms pine for love  

Where their sacred beauty sings to my heart

they call forth the lovely nightingale

high in their cloudless summer sky

to sweetly sing their longing song

There, I too confess a secret yearning

silent hidden d...

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Bird beneath the midnight sky
As on my lonely couch I lie,
I hear thee singing in the dark,
Why sing not I?

No star-gleams meet thy wakeful eye;
No fond mate answers to thy cry;
No other voice, through all the dark,
Makes sweet reply.

Yet never sky-lark soaring high
Where sun-lit clouds rejoicing lie,
Sang as thou singest in the dark,
Not mute as I!

O lone, sweet spirit! tell me ...

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