Friday, June 7, 2013

The Song of the Swans


The night was young and tender,
and flushed with the gaze of the moon.
The young leaves swayed in harmony,
to the soft notes of the bird's tune.

The amorous wind kissed the lake,
and ripples sent the waters aflutter.
The woods became a theatre,
where a drama was played with a strong fervour.

They glided through the air,
as silent as a feather's fall.
Two swans, white as snow,
leaving the woods enthralled.

They called in unison,
their bodies danced in strong ardour.
Reflections fell on the waters of the lake,
which the ripples will take farther and farther.

They shone in the moon's light,
their bodies glowing white.
A beautiful sight they made,
in the dark and starry night.

Their song ethereal will echo,
long after they have vanished into the night.
The woods will retain it in their hearts,
long after they have taken their flight.

Whither are you bound, O heavenly swans,
no one knows, no one has a clue.
Leaving the waters of the lake upon the morn,
they will fly with swift wings,
out of the woods and out of view.

© 2013 Abhijit Pandit