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The Poetry Page

Manohar Khushalani

  

                           

She

  

She comes like a whisper riding on the wind

Quiet and nervous as a butterfly amongst the bees

She looks hither and tither ever so softly

as a feather twisting in the breeze

 

MK, New Delhi,  Spring, 1971

 

 

* Lei* (Italian Translation  of 'She')

 

Lei viene come un sussurro

correndo nel vento

silenzioso e nervoso

come una farfalla tra le api

guarda di qua e di là

come una torsione di piuma al vento

 

The first whiff of Matured Wine 

 

Thou art like the fruit of a heavenly tree

Sweet as nectar

Matured like old, but distilled, wine

Yet,

You fill my being with such freshness

That I think of thee whenever I get…

The first gust of morning breeze

The first ray of morning light

The first whiff of a bud about to bloom

The first tumble of autumn leaves

The first rustle of swinging trees

The first flutter of a bird’s wings

The first shuffle of a baby’s feet

Thou always rest …

ever so lightly on my thoughts …

Like a fluffy feather wobbling in the wind

Oh Lord …

Thou may not have been the first impression in my life

but, thou art the last word all right

 

MK, New Delhi, 1st September 2001

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