Neath the shade of bakul tree,[1]
Oh Who art Thou that appeared,
Flowers scattering?
Not a word You spoke with anybody;
On a golden throne You had been,
With sweet notes in hues of spring,
Suffusing psyche.
Is there anywhere that I will find a peer,
Who makes colored both the sides, out and in,
With brush-stroke on mental cranny,
The spring having smeared?
Sarkarverse article
Audio recording
Oh Who art Thou that appeared,
Flowers scattering?
Not a word You spoke with anybody;
On a golden throne You had been,
With sweet notes in hues of spring,
Suffusing psyche.
Is there anywhere that I will find a peer,
Who makes colored both the sides, out and in,
With brush-stroke on mental cranny,
The spring having smeared?
Sarkarverse article
Audio recording