The lattice of relationship lifted

 
Perhaps if we measure love by grammar's rules,
our love amounts to very little!
Yet this bond between us—
it holds no alloy, no gaps.


Have you ever wondered
how close we are, even from such distance?
Like termite-eaten, weathered wood,
our hearts endure still,
held by threads of longing and tenderness!


Letters aren't written the way they once were.
Still, I want to write you one…
with some love in it, some tenderness, some enchantment…


The days of love letters carried by pigeons are over…
My love letter will be offered beside a cup of tea,
or in some weary afternoon lull,
where it will simply say, I love you…
nothing more.


I was wondering the other day—who are you to me?
My foolish heart smiled at the corner of my eyes and said:
You are my silver moon's jeweled necklace,
twilight's eternal vows on the firefly's wild back,
a butterfly in evening's gentle light.
A soft, cool breast trembling in neon glow,
you are the bulbul's face painted on my flame tree's wing.


You are the bluish courtyard of a blood-red rose garden,
a dim, deep forest waking on the Padma's sandy char,
a heart-melting mind drunk on love's sweet words,
Kajla-didi's song, drowsy as night falls,
you are one of my nights, the Padma river's pull through countless stories.