Classic poem of the day
AT D AWN
All night my heart its lonely vigil kept
Listening for thee, O Love. All night I wept.
Where went thy wanton footsteps wandering,
Sweet Ghanashyam, my King?
My bridal veils are flung upon the floor,
My bridal garlands drop across the door.
The buds that on my bed their fragrance spilt,
Grief-scattered, wane and wilt.
O Flute-player, how quickly dost thou tire
Of thine own gladness and thine own desire!
Couldst thou......
