After all, a long while is not so long now!

After all, a long while is not so long now!

 

I started to pick the shards of trampled

Dreams drowning in the blue of sky

Which I thought moldered into time.

 

They started to come, one after the other,

And started to sing, song after song.

And I started to float, in time without line.

 

The time’s slingshot didn’t find its way

Into the gale where my little bird sings

Incessantly. In its songs the day and night died.

 

How green is the green of the field of clover?

How hot is the fire of fire? Matter not, for

In the river of songs all ragged edges got melted.

 

After all, a long while is not so long now!

The morn is so nigh than moon.

Fain, they come, song after song.

 

I started to pick the shards of trampled

Dreams drowning in the blue of sky

Which I thought moldered into time.

 

Sarala

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