Love is the waves of a sea. Bearing those waves
into my heart, I summoned you saying “River! River! “
Hearing that call, o my lady, you became a courageous river
and like the Ganges, you resolved making the sky hear:
“Coming out of home, I will get mixed with the dream-sea in this spring.”
Then keeping all the debts of the past behind, you commenced running to get mixed with the sea.
This way a sea makes a river leave her home.
This way a sea makes a river bewildered.
Love is the storm of song. Bearing the storm into my heart,
I summoned you cooing like a cuckoo. Hearing my call,
you, like a dry leaf, said binding the tamarind-wind
at the loose end of your sari: “Now it has been the vow of my life:
I won’t stay lifeless on the grass of earth anymore;
Like the lovely cloud, I will fly fair in the unlimited sky.
This way a storm summons
the dry leaves of earth.
When the sea summons, how does a river remain isolated?
And when the storm summons, how do the dry leaves
lie down on the grasses of earth?
Likewise, o my lady, loving you when I summon,
how can a dead man’s sleep come down
into the grave-abode of your love-wet eyes?
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