Classic Poem

Come love, keep your hand on my hand
And your lips on my lips
Let the clouds that lean against the sky
Come down in torrents

Down the dust-laden paths
Let incessant rain bathe the trees
And drown the voices of the birds
In the mirror of a forlorn river in some dense forest
Let your face be anglow, drenched in sweat.

[ Translated by Snigdhamalati Neog ]