Enchanted Desires

 Beloved,
 Call my name in the warm love of evening's moon.
 In the full moonlight, cascade as color through the slipping branches of flame trees.
 Be my song, be the memory of wild vines.
  
 Beloved,
 Be the ektara in the wistful hands of a wandering minstrel, be Jibanananda's 'grass.'
 Even if just a small boat, be the waves of the Padma river.
  
 Be the grey dusk, the crickets of midnight,
 Be a sudden shower-body, or a kingfisher taking flight.
  
 Beloved, be love itself, be the balm of sorrow.
 Be the envelope of a brown letter, sometimes an unwritten song.
 Be my intoxicated life, or the living of a single day!