By Subhayu Mukherjee
I am the chair of the villa on Skylark Mountain,
Staring at the sprinkling fountain,
And the dog on the lawn,
Waiting for the dawn.
The leaves danced with the breeze's spark,
Whispering secrets through the trees till dark.
The squalid pool by the grainfield greenery—
Astonished by the magnanimous scenery.
The coot flies across the sky
With a diligence soaring high.
A boy plays with his ball
Behind the foaming waterfall.
To the right of the brimming river,
Sleeps the venerable tiger.
The clouds took shape in outer space,
Like a mirrored crown of the King of Ace.
The world is full of sweet surprise,
But only the wise can claim the prize.
I can't reach them—I'm on hold,
Waiting as the days unfold.
But you can have it, clear and true,
Because the path belongs to you.
I am the chair of the villa on Skylark Mountain,
Staring at the sprinkling fountain,
And the dog on the lawn,
Still waiting for the dawn.