The heart dances pitter-patter

 
You are my sky-blue moon
wrapped close around me,
in deep night's eye-line
a trap woven with tenderness.


You are my mat of scent
woven beneath the bakul tree,
in lonely daylight trembling
I trace lines of joy.


You are my weary noon,
my tired body's fold,
dove-calling evening hours,
dusk stained with color.


You are my wild racing
through fields of kash grass,
on rainy days falling in mud
rolling fierce and free.


You are my hair swaying
on the swing of wind,
glass bangles on blue sari,
vermillion mark worn well.


You are my fathomless dark,
fair of fireflies,
in silent flesh today wakens
the play of love's delight.


You are seven-colored raft
upon my lips,
after rain on durba grass
a fair of flower buds.


You are swarm of honeyed friends
on my jasmine branch,
on the river's breast trembling
sun-bathed water.


You are my sitting silent
on the Padma's shore,
rose-colored on eyelids
deep gazing drawn.


With you I'll dress myself,
color each morning red,
sweet doel birds will sing to us,
evening-afternoon will revel.


You are my dream-thief,
you are my love,
on deep shores, on sandbars
our wedding-house of joy.