The subtle sounds of silence

When I will be not any more

Around to pamper the mood

Of the weird winds

Or crazy mountains

Or the streams with passion

In their belly

Not accepting the discipline of the banks

You will then realize

The subtle sounds of silence

That engulfs when a pyre is burnt almost fully

I am her shadow in the lake

She is the star

Slowly fading in the sky

I am her shadow  in the lake

Placid and tranquil

But then you know

How can the shadow become longer,

deeper and

More serene

When I light a lamp

and float it in the lake

The lamp will not light

No mater how much oil

I put in it, till the wick is lighted

You are the wick of that lamp

Burning, slowing dying

Disappearing in the light

And elongating the shadow

Do you know

That’s the way it is

That’s the way it is

What can I pray for you

Just be there

Lighting the life

Of shadows

Which will remain dark

Long

And inaccessible

Do not ever hope to get closer to

The shadow

Its pain, only pain, distress

Of desolate length

That some times

Goes beyond the banks of the lake

 

But then star is still lighted and

I am trying to keep this light glowing

Feebly,

What a life

Neither able to nurture the light, nor

The shadow

And the lamp floats away, slowly

And slowly, Ah!