Resonating Tales. Kavyotsav2
There’s a valley full of memories resonating tales from the past,
When the branch of the heart was full of blossoming buds.
Desires, untold and unheard, come knocking in dreams,
Life flows like the river to end in the depth of the sea.
Countless stories accumulate in the core of this life,
Like countless flowers, some half risen, others half asleep,
Expressing themselves like fragrance spread by tale telling eyes.
Prayers for those who took the stories forward, rise
In the rhythm of the throbbing heart, regret springs
For the phrases and clauses and denials of the damaged soul.
Dew drops of happiness fall during the unhappy mist,
On the woods of solitude where we take refuge.
The moth that dies for flame has to break all bonds,
With the customs of atrocities that control us,
With close ones who often act like strangest of strangers.
The season of rain replenish us with stories that move forth,
Adding a little new to the vast familiarity with the old.
Moments are to be blamed, only moments are to be blamed.
There’s a valley full of memories resonating tales from the past,
When the branch of the heart was full of blossoming buds.
