My Stella - My Damsel -16
- My stella - - 16
by Prabir Gayen
The spring hast unfolded his wings,
All is busy to dance in indolent air,
The south wind like a boat of flower flows,
The divine light plays hide and seek through
Thick leaves and flowers and petals,
The hearts of many bloom in this swaying pleasure,
murmurous haunt of swarm of bees,
The flowers wild sing tossing with sprightly breeze,
A bonfire night with folklore for gentle ceremony in the cool lap and brim of Hurst.
No I will not go and dance and sleep on dead frond,
I will not move from my prefecture: I will build an edifice out of my being for my stella.
In this careless, wool - gathering muse and unmindful and somnolent air and fume with steam, I will not sail through humidity deep into that effulgent rosy bower.
I will spread and expanse my couch for my blooming stella,
In her jovial bottom and lofty underlip and perky lock I will sign my name.
In this nonchalant blow and glacial nog of evening shower I will cuddle my favourite belle.
With heart full of pain for fullness,
I will squeeze like a gallant swain to his graceful and sportive damsel.