|Darjeeling Train Tracks in the Himalayas|
Come by train, my love,
Your heart straining
through the rusting heat of Delhi,
From the dust rise up
To a lake in Kashmir,
Beneath the Himalayas~~
I’ll be waiting.
Follow my voice,
Whispering your name,
Soft as pashmina,
Through supple fields of semolina.
And we’ll embark,
Your feather cockaded,
My pale orchid veil,
In the green-grey rippling
Silk moiré waters,
We’ll shyly eye each other’s reflection.
There we’ll filigree sigh,
the air, crushed pearls between us;
The rosewater sky will deepen to dusk.
A single gold thread of light will bind us.
I’ll touch your feet with mine,
Your hands, I’ll clasp.
Under the red canopy,
The heavens will shower us with flowers
|A Shikara docked on Dal Lake, Kashmir|