A poem

Beauty

Many hands have perturbed the body of Beauty

Many heads have been piled on the foot of Beauty

Me, blind, embarrassed, infatuated-

Wail, Oh, God! Why must Beauty dazzle like that?

If the keen blade of Beauty rends eternity,

I will disperse my heart perpetually-

If the scattered meats increases

the hunger of a voluptuous tongue

Me, a hungry mendicant, bending my knees-

Smeared with the evasive misty tincture of Morn,

Defrauded by the essence of enormous self-drenched delusion-

The beauty of the moon gets eclipsed

As the day becomes rapturous-

The dishes of Beauty display

Twinkling pearls in clay

Evoking ever-tempting ripe red grapes

to be swallowed after play-

An ascetic duck can not help but drown

Into the riddle of Beauty.

When nights get involved in the classical meditation of Beauty

Never-budding feathers of a submissive Heart

Tries relentlessly to flutter its wings

As the eyes of Beauty glares eternally-

Beauty rushes to behold the glory of Green

If a lover searches her in the womb of wood

Miracles mingle with an aesthetic glance

When the suppressed soul of a poet

Is plunged into the womb of Beauty.