- My Stella - 30
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my stella30
The river with full tide flowing
with facile swiftness.
It touched the blue legs,
and absorbed divine hearts down the ages.
It is streaming with soundless murmur,
in its bosom lies stories
strange and remote.
from the mighty Ravan to cursed ashwathama,
and from the legend and memoir
to diplomatic shrewdness.
Time is single and tied is
not enisled to cut into parts.
Thy bosom my dear is the mahabharata
of my soul,
I did see, the Gita of my heart
and ecstatic rapture of meditation.
O my stella, my timeless love,
the beauty of my being
lift me up close to inmost shrine
of impetus self of thine.
Forsaken and forlorn,
and waiting on frowsy stream of human skull
from cover to cover in the
Womb to come at thee.
my stella! the joy of my life
and the giver of bliss and boon,
autogenous to filthy felicity,
uplift me with thy holy sermon
of love and unsophisticated simplicity.
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