Autumn
When the autumn reaches
a strong storm blows from the north
water of lake turns very cool suddenly
And my melancholy soon darkens
beyond the point I can hide.
Night start falling early day by day
Old terrace of my house gradually
carpeted with fallen leaves of plum and pears
School going students will pull out
Full sleeve sweater from cupboard
Damp and dark stones of my backyard
Will get back those lizards and leaches
who went beneath the earth during rain.
Those friends who visited me in warm summer
Will disappear soon towards lowland
And for me the gloom autumn sets in.
Spring
I saw your tall silhouette
behind the red oleander tree
Oh my Nilakshi Parveen Mita!
I smelt aroma of Hasnuhana
from your plated hairline
And thy contours of face
Thy dark eyelashes, thy eyebrow
Thy nose, thy beads of perspiration
And dual concupiscent thy lips.
Over the vale near bank of kopotaksha
you swayed your red oar.
My world turned red and
I welcomed the spring.
Winter
Hills of the mighty Himalaya
appeared in your both eyes
It sprinkled white frost
over your black hair bun,
on your nose tip, red cheeks
and on thy all numb finger
Oh! Let's welcome sweet winter!
Your both legs are laden
While I shouldered your dream
Promise to have rendezvous
In the moonlit night near the stream.
Your tremulous lips allude obliquely
to have a warm lip lock together
Oh! Let's welcome the winter.
You walked passed frozen Dale
When the sky had its crescent moon
Thy silhouette I saw in moonlight
to thee icy winter would bemoan
Near the Dale we spent the night together
Oh! Let's welcome the loving winter.
Summer
Nature will herald you Nilakshi Parveen
over Greenwood, under the blue sky
Draped in your cobalt blue sari of chiffon
And a dangling blue oar framed by
all love we made over the year
Clinging our arms to each other.
Beads of perspiration from your cleavage
Gave me courage to take an entourage
Deep inside the splendour in contour
Those soft curves behind your blue oar
love bird will fly dearly with its wing
Both of us will melt in feverous fingering
Nature will withheld you until we finish dear
Horizon would whisper near, it is summer !
