Full many a flower is born to blush unseen
yet more at once (than those in sight)
alluring in veiled nature’s sanctum,
enchanting as that can be
a lass in solitary air.
In woods lush the valiant explorer
on her host’s lands sauntered,
away from company lost to find
a realm elusive to material mankind.
Without the woods, upon the lea
she felt a touch;
zephyr’s hand did dulcify
her face. Her vesture brushing the bracken,
she glimpsed the arcadia.
The bleeding sapphire, verdure, silver
did please, from the foaming stream,
virescent hills and the cozy quilt of dome.
In a sunny glade she
a cabin makeshift made,
while the vale did resound
when touched the heart
the lone maiden’s notes profound
of the conical hills and
the placid river that slightly bent.
White cotton candies hung from the sky,
mantling the place, her and nature’s ally.
Warbling warblers her glee of the day,
nights swaying foxgloves’ play,
the purple bells that, the river, lined.
And she beneath a dotted night sky reclined.
Islands some a territory make
yet from each other kept, away by degrees thrown,
self-involved man lives alone.
The departed’s eluding soul
descries what none do conceive,
alike man weathers the batterings of life unshared.
And nature a mother bounteous
though of appreciation bereft,
’tis but all that contours
the young maiden’s resolve,
a bohemian bargain with dear nature’s glen.
“When to rise to reality do you plan?”
A voice familiar into my ear seeps,
alas lifting my lids
(accentuated green in downpour)
I to my suburban society wake,
discerning what I beheld always a dream away.
Plunging to the mirror
the maiden from my sylvan fantasy
I could cognize.
Anam Tariq is a Masters student at Aligarh Muslim University.