King-Queen
King Spring, the queen of the seasons,
But, their stories are so different!
A smile on the king’s lips, a garland around his neck,
The queen’s heart troubled, tears in her eyes.
The fragrant breeze sways in every corner of the king’s palace,
Fairies stand in service, adorning both.
The queen opens her tearful eyes, perturbed,
A turmoil of emotions surges within, and she begins to weep.
Queen, don’t cry, don’t wipe the tears from your cheeks,
The king plays with the lotus and kachnar flowers.
How will flowers bloom in the king’s garden,
If the earth remains dry due to your tears?
Write, oh pen, the hidden sorrow in your heart,
The queen’s story has remained wet all day.
Just as King Rama pardoned Sita,
The tradition of king-queen goes back ages.
Vidhu goes along with the moon’s brightness in every corner,
Seizing the fairies, adorning them both.
Queen Alka, tell me, what sorrow is making you restless,
What agony has overcome you, causing you to weep?
Queen, cry, let the tears flow without wiping them,
The king plays with lotus and water lilies.
How will the blossoms bloom in the king’s forest,
If the earth is soaked with tears?
In the Madhavi grove, a sweet love story,
Today, a tangible image appears in the eyes.
Creating an image in a sculpture of the unfeeling king,
The queen wanders from forest to forest, madly.
The king laughs, he laughs, but you must cry,
Wash away the stains of his unfaithfulness.
Queen, let the curse of fate be revealed,
You, like an unborn seed, need tears to water you.
Breaking through every restraint, the sun’s rays shine freely,
In the shade, the king enjoys the auspicious moment.
Queen, the king doesn’t know, but unknowingly,
He roams, guided by your expressions, moment by moment.
He’s the new flower of spring, and you’re the red one,
He’s the rain-filled sky, and you’re the cloudy one.
Queen, in this empty world of the king,
You weave dreams of gold.
You are the intoxicating laughter of joy, the sigh of despair,
Both pleasure and pain, you embody the radiant moon.
You are the pulse of life, the ache of love,
Queen, you are the sweet nectar of night and the brilliance of day.
At every step, flowers bloom, the path is gentle,
Queen, Kaveri’s curse is to become a garland.
Vidhu! Who is this tainted artist here,
Dim in the evening, weak like the crescent moon?
Shakuntala! What sadness is etched upon your face?
Whose secret is held so tightly within?
The goblet was brimming with love’s poison,
Which you naively drank, becoming intoxicated with illusion.
The melodious tale of Madhavi’s grove,
Is now captured in the eyes like liquid pearls.
The queen, sculpted in a figurine by the unfeeling king,
Wanders in the forests, a queen gone mad.
The king laughs, laughs, and you must cry,
Cleanse even the tarnished purity of his reputation.
Queen, you should become a statue,
And the ashes of Saket, the River Saryu, will be your adornment.
Oh, who is this, bearing the mark of Vidhu’s inferior art,
Flickering like the evening star, a feeble flicker of light?
Oh, compassionate one of Dwapar Yuga, speak,
Who are you, frail like a faded star, yet bright as the moon?
Oh, Shakuntala! What deep sorrow lies upon your face?
Whose pain is hidden within your heart?
You drank the poison-filled cup of love,
And in your simplicity, you consumed the venom within the love-nest.
Madhavi’s grove tells a passionate tale,
In the eyes, the image of love is now tangible.
The king, wrapped in thoughts, becomes a sculpture,
The queen, weeping and wandering, has gone mad.
The king laughs, but now you must cry,
The lotus of his reputation blooms as he laughs.
Queen, fate’s curse must be borne,
You must sow the seed of pearls with your tears.
The rays flow unhindered, lighting up the path,
The king remains immersed in celebration.
Queen, the king is unaware, yet unknowingly,
He wanders, every moment in uncertainty.
He’s the new flower of spring, and you are the red one,
He’s the rain-filled sky, and you are the cloudy one.
Queen, the king doesn’t know in this barren world,
You weave dreams of gold.
You possess the intoxicating laughter of joy and the sigh of adversity,
Both joy and sorrow, like the moon and the sun.
You are the essence of life, the pain of love,
Queen, you are the nectar of the night and the light of the day.
Flowers sway with every step, the path is delicate,
Queen, why must you cry while the king laughs?
Queen, as the sunshine melts, your form emerges,
But the king remains blinded by the morning’s brilliance.
King Spring, the queen of the seasons,
But, their stories are so different.
A smile on the king’s lips, a garland around his neck,
The queen’s heart troubled, tears in her eyes.
