Under the open blue sky,
Center of the dreamlike green meadow,
There lies the solitary Pond.
An old soul is he,
Older than
All the lands happy and sad,
All the fun and melancholy,
All the exhilarations and heart break,
All ups and downs,
Right there he sits,
Meditating - still and silent.
With his heart brimming with -
His love for the bright yellow Lotus,
His ardor for the luscious pink water lilly,
His limitless care for the swans swimming,
His affection for the wriggling schools of fish,
His longing for that special fairy from the heavens,
Beyond the stars and all starry noises of the tranquil dark sky.
He knows all his love,
Will never be his.
For his love is bigger than his embrace.
And his love is too alive to be an object of his possession.
For his love is infinite.
Taking forms innumerable,
Sometimes in form of a song, or a poem,
Or might be just a gush of calm breeze,
Caressing his body with all her affection and love.
His love stands in that tranquil presence,
Close to his heart,
In manifestations countless outside,
But just only one - deep within his heart,
His love, and his being,
Center of the dreamlike green meadow,
There lies the solitary Pond.
An old soul is he,
Older than
All the lands happy and sad,
All the fun and melancholy,
All the exhilarations and heart break,
All ups and downs,
Right there he sits,
Meditating - still and silent.
With his heart brimming with -
His love for the bright yellow Lotus,
His ardor for the luscious pink water lilly,
His limitless care for the swans swimming,
His affection for the wriggling schools of fish,
His longing for that special fairy from the heavens,
Beyond the stars and all starry noises of the tranquil dark sky.
He knows all his love,
Will never be his.
For his love is bigger than his embrace.
And his love is too alive to be an object of his possession.
For his love is infinite.
Taking forms innumerable,
Sometimes in form of a song, or a poem,
Or might be just a gush of calm breeze,
Caressing his body with all her affection and love.
His love stands in that tranquil presence,
Close to his heart,
In manifestations countless outside,
But just only one - deep within his heart,
His love, and his being,
Two - always entwined with each other,
Deep bonded, without any crack of anything visible.
His love is an expression of life.
Which expresses herself all around,
In forms countless,
His love is an expression of life.
Which expresses herself all around,
In forms countless,
In myriads form and colors,
In countless voices and symphonies.
But, unknown is his love,
Of that eternal longing of the Pond,
For her and only her.
For she is herself,
Eternally busy with her dance,
With the countless of loves of her own!
But, unknown is his love,
Of that eternal longing of the Pond,
For her and only her.
For she is herself,
Eternally busy with her dance,
With the countless of loves of her own!
Decorating the fabric of the world,
With hues of a thousand rainbows.
All deeply in love,
All deeply in love,
The yellow Lotus, the pink Lilly, the swans, and the fish.
The Heavens, and the Earth.
Being in that space of peace,
Celebrate the beauty of life!
Being in that space of peace,
Celebrate the beauty of life!
All are unaware of the silent, solitary and still Pond.
Under the open blue sky,
Center of the dreamlike green meadow,
An old soul,
Older than
All the lands happy and sad,
All the fun and melancholy,
All the exhilarations and heart break,
All ups and downs.
All the lands happy and sad,
All the fun and melancholy,
All the exhilarations and heart break,
All ups and downs.
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