The Shepherd

The Shepherd The shepherd sat under the big peepul tree on the hill-top "Too weary a climb", He said to himself slipping into a nap Retreat-song of birds woke him up to a beautiful dusk A thought-flash of his sheep urged him look around They were grazing afar bleating at times It reminded him of his lapse He picked up his flute and held it close to his lips To play on it a tune and summon the sheep The flute did not yield, so he checked it thoroughly He was amazed, it was a flute beautifully made of gold "Hey! This is not mine, mine is the one made of reed This may belong to a prince who might lost it here Or might have fallen down while passing through this spot " Soon he heard a lovely song played on a flute He saw a prince approaching in robe and crown With the herd behind him in perfect discipline The prince came closer and said, "Here's your flute I had taken it leaving mine here, without permission Thought not to wake you up from your peaceful sleep But wanted to save from the lion the sheep Can I take it with me in exchange of the one in your hand? "Sorry your majesty, my flute is so dear to me It has become an inseparable companion I hold it fast to my bosom while I sleep, it gives out heavenly melodies for me My sheep sleep and wake up hearing its music, it carries our communications too It's a friend, a companion, a solace, a boon and what not, please don't ask for it so insistently, my lord "OK, then take both, a gift for your innocence and golden songs". The prince walked away along the stretch of brightness That fell from the heaven and leading to the horizon The smile on his lips brightened the whole surrounding The melody from his flute showered eternal sweetnes