It is the dark half of the lunar month
a silver gloaming illumes hills of marble
and the amber afterglow of thunder and lightning

There’s magic in the veena
singing of an ageless cosmic romance
Krishna and Radha
and the delirious freedom of the night world
her head filled with the redolence of coriander blossoms
jasmine and sandalwood

In the mango grove branches groan and creak

Distant sea-waves swept by north winds
reach the stars

         Sobs from Earth’s heart