Garland of song for sake of Thee,
Today I've kept it strung since morning.
Please do come, bestowing mercy;
With heart filled, I'll make You wear.
After bath donning a fine cotton,
Carefully making selection,
The gold wicker-tray have I adorned
With rhythm, raag, and melody.
Not from the arbor are my blossoms these;
They unfold within psyche's deeps
Through stream of love by a sweet magic,
Upon veena strings
At a lovers' tryst of mystery.
Sarkarverse article
Audio recording
Monday, April 14, 2025
A wicker tray of gold
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You and I, we must unite; but when and where remain unknown.
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