On the banks of the Jamuna

COVER

ON THE BANKS OF THE JAMUNA

Drenched in the Jamuna flow,

her uncovered teats shrink in shyness,

hands head and half closed eyes

raised heavenward, her nude

body radiant with love,

the Gopika stood beseeching to Krishna

for her stolen clothes

hung on the blue bough

high above the perfect disc of the moon

while her back in shadows:

or hair locks falling to her knees?

Here love is immortalized

In beauty, a melody in marble,

Rhyme in perfect proportions;

Oh, Shah Jahan,

I see the Taj,

Hourie bathed in dreamy moon!

A passing cloud casts a shadow

Over the spire; I shudder:

The demon of a serpent

Has returned from exile,

Defouls again the Jamuna flow

And extends to the banks

Its multi- headed hood

Whose thousand mouths

Puff out poison from

Refineries, workshops and factories

To pollute the air,

Tarnish the marble,

Spoil the beauty of the Taj.

A damage irreparable.

(Image: The Taj Mahal and the Yamuna river, Agra. Source: Wikimedia)