Manohar Khushalani Poetry Page
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