The Lamenting Moment

By Nitish Mahato

In this morn of early spring,

When the sunlight flashes like a fountain on your hair,

Lift up my ordinary mobi-cam,

To hold the fleeting moment,

To seize the pinnacle of time.

I don't know if the new flower has bloomed from the ‘Sacred Tree’;

Yet in this festival of colour,

Darling, I offer you the lovely sky.

Mixed feelings, tingling sensations,

Your arrivals and departures,

Fabricating nostalgic breaks in my mind.

When we are slaves to the stomach,

In the conflict of life and livelihood,

Come soon my love,

The most favorite corner of my room is empty without you.

By Nitish Mahato