“Amā at Dusk”
In Neerav, the tranquil world of profound darkness,
Whose gentle serenade softly unfurls?
Whose anklet’s whisper? In the silent realm, whose song gently swirls?
Is it the murmuring of twilight, the heartstrings of the evening’s fairy?
Whose gentle serenade?
The last rays fill the waves, a sea of pearls,
Kissing the lips of the ocean’s embrace,
Enveloping the forest blooms, dewdrops on blades,
And the grassy mouths sipping the icy grace.
Whose gentle serenade?
Amidst the sapphire waters, Amā awakens,
Unfolding like a hidden, sacred cave,
Flowing freely in every direction, her love unshaken,
Embracing the boundless sky, her melody brave.
Whose gentle serenade?
She weaves Shukra’s essence in her pearl-laden tresses,
Adorning herself with blossoms and grace,
Echoing through the vast horizon, her song blesses,
As the earth trembles, her footsteps embrace.
Whose gentle serenade?
Is this the song of the world’s life-force, this sweet tone?
A tremor in the soft, dark veils we’ve known,
Amā, what melancholy melody do you intone?
Whose longing song through the heart has grown?
Whose gentle serenade?
