Three Poems by Alok Mishra

Awesome April

In the aromatic crimson morning

Of the awesome April long awaited;

I my dear pick the beautiful blossoms

To prepare a garland in mood elated.

 

In many a colour the flowers in gay

Being eager to embrace your breast

O my love intensifies my feelings;

Restless is conscience in the utmost jest.

 

Dance in the crazy steps my strong emotions

In the intoxicated delicious breeze

Celebrating the morning of awesome April

That whispers to the crimson trees.

 

To embellish your subtle form

I select one by one prettiest O my heart!

With an unshakable belief 

You will make these your inseparable part.

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Alone on the Shore

Small and serene waves of the great ocean,

Sparkling with myriads of golden stars:

Playing in jocund mood,

Sometimes being shaken by soft and warm wings

Of seagulls,

Are caressing the healing honeyed zephyr.

 

Golden rays of the sun,

Excitingly,

Hugging the flabby clouds

Floating in the welkin measureless,

Are illuminating their frontier

With golden shine.

 

On the alone shore,

With folded hands,

I am standing with rolling tears 

From my yearning eyes,

Having an assumption that you will come

And put healing balm on my wounds

While embracing me.

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Blooming Loti

Searching for beauty

I stroll around the steepy mountains,

Dales, alongside the singing and dancing rivers;

Peep through the dew drenched blades

Of green and velvety grass,

Covering the ground untravelled;

Touch every feeling

Of sweet and mesmerizing breeze,

Blowing with the smile of Aphrodite,

Rustling through red plush petals of roses and jasmines white;

Hear the honeyed chirping of little and sportive sparrows,

And symmetrical notes of nightingales

With the tone of Apollo’s lyre;

Bound with the roe’s fickle steps;

Far from the bustle of mundane sphere.

 

My searching glance 

At once falls

Upon a beautiful and serene lake,

Treasuring a number of blooming loti;

The buds are opening their petals by degrees

As a groom,

On the first night,

Unveil his bride’s beauty

Slowly and gradually,

Budging her stoll from silky haired head.

 

I behold the fllowers of purity,

Caressing soft cool breeze,

In a great measure;

As a number of mermaids are dancing

In the lake,

Swaying their elegant limbs.

 

With moon-like purity,

And passion of a virgin

They stoop in the reverence

Of their creator.

 

This beauty,

Mingling of red and white,

Is the true offering 

To the whole,

Proving the purity of my tears 

And passion of my soul.

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© Alok Mishra 

Fatehpur, Uttar Pradesh, India

alokk2129@gmail.com