[16]   Bewildered  Autumn notes .

The sage who silently steps on the earth

bids a farewell to all the disease stricken ideas

and  invokes, incessantly , the cyclonic stormy gales,

  which can sweep away all the dirt .

The painter, who with a strong devotional urge, draws up the lines meaningfully,

expresses his thoughts, in all sweetness surging from inner  depths of his heart

and all these are rendered  to the full  satisfaction of the creation .

All those who rally round in the drains of contaminated  filth.

and others   who were  imprisoned in the subdued thoughts

and Who  are sipping ,the pints of  bonded slavery life,

can’t understand the greatness of this eminent  sage,  who  is exactly an ascetic.

This genius can practically  mesmerize the  Sun and the  moon

 and  can affectively restrain all  their movements , henceforth by sheer commands

He is such a  delight  that can be  delivered  only by waves of  cool breezes

and has an enormous,  depth expressed in charming grace ,by the azure sky .

The music that denotes the splendid beauty of the creation in high esteem

carries them,  all   away to the world of  perseverance and dignity

duly sounding the notes melodiously,   and as well by lighting up the soul lamp.

However,  it couldn’t give forth, any pleasure,  to this sleepy world.

All these humans who could not  grace, the tender shoots of this tree of humanity at large,

 and who  can  never allow the sweetness of the of entertaining songs and   notes  of the life’s lute,  to  flow into the green meadows  that  stay ahead  in stints

must forever  remain here,  as dwarfs , on  this noble  earth.

Then, should all the fruits of penance thus practised by these pious hearted sages and pure  soulful ascetics,  for the welfare of this world,  go in vain ?

and all the rains that shower in the thoughtful fields of this humanity ,

must evaporate in the summer scorch and blazes of shocking Sun?

All the notes of the cuckoos that   sound sweetly in the vocal chords of the humanity  must they be,  left behind hereafter,  as bewildered  autumn notes .

Will the spring at all  ring again ?

Will my wishful  and inordinate waiting  bear fruits ,in all entirety ?.