'Forests, trees, rocks and hills give me joy that my mind yearns for. <br />Each tree in the village speaks to me, it tells me, pure! complete!' <br />~Beethoven <br /> <br />My mind too, escapes in late spring <br />to the branches of mango and palash trees <br />and relaxes in contentment for a couple of hours <br />in the young green and middle-aged reds of fields, <br />after all, all men are debtors to the earth. <br /> <br />The afternoon, lost in a daydream <br />stares mutely in the distance, <br />it's in the past with no effort at all, <br />my distracted thoughts spin in the wind <br />and lose themselves in the call of doves <br />across deserted village rice-fields. <br /> <br />The evening, blushing with colours, <br />signs itself out on an exhilarating note, <br />in the deep tune of a song. Do you know that I yearn for that song <br />just like a parched chatak begs for water?<br /><br />Bishnu Dey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-kafi/
