By M. SRI
RAMAMURTI, M.A., LL.B
The night
is giddy with the scent
Of unseen
wild flowers.
Long and
painful has been my vigil
And the
tearful night is almost spent.
There is
no hint still
Of my
Love’s advent.
Thy sky
is flooded to the brim
With the
full moon’s soothing light,
But mine,
alas, is dim
With a
few feverish stars
Thy limbs
in a shining garment
Beauty
doth enfold.
Love hath
left his eternal seal
In the
rapture of thine eyes,
Divine,
untold.
Sweet
sakhi!
What
precious craft.
Hath won for
thee
The
fadeless aureole of Love?