You brought me a bunch of marigolds

And a fragrance filled the air;

I could speak of a sweeter joy gathered

From your cheer by the roaming hum,

And your soul was a fire

I had cherished in my heart to adore;

My truenesses thrilled in its blaze

And sight leaped to grasp the form

In whose gaze widens an imperious urge.

 

There was a time,

Perhaps more than a hundred years ago,

When, splendid, you lived in a palace like a queen

And even fed your swift mares

With rich and glistening Avena, dipped in honey;

Vari-hued chandeliers tinged your moods

And I could even hear soft music,

Could see from them a symphonic poem

Arush in every timelessness.

 

But then as you rode out in the morning,

You carried another freedom to win

Newer and stranger trophies;

You were bold to desire a vibrant world,

In their interminable silence

To give to the dumb gods exuberancy

Of your laughter, the merriment

Clad in emerald trees, and the speed of the beasts,

Or else the passion of your vineyard songs.

 

One day you crossed the hinged gate,

And drifted far, far beyond the garden,

Even beyond the fabled valley

That vanishes into a harsh undreaming waste,

As do events into wayward years;

But Zelda, you were really unmindful

When you stepped into the grand canyon,

Forsaking happy lands, wondering

If there’s sunlessness on the farther side.

 

Should I call it a well-intentioned moment

That was needed for our time to begin,

When there you first struck the gun-metal gong

And when from behind the inverted sky

Pealed back another joyous anthem?

You heard it so. Yes, I can quite imagine it,

But we felt the din, the loud din as if

It would shatter even the sturdiest of our hopes,

Bury them in eternal death.

 

You were charmed by a shadow’s sound,

But I was asleep so quietly, deathlessly,

That I could not catch the deer in my dream;

I was stunned when a nightmare

Seized you and you screamed wild,

Like a phantom who in some incoherent agony

Cried as it reached the engulfing hollow;

Zelda, you surely were brave and great

To take death for a husband.

 

 

RY Deshpande

18 January 1994


Courtesy Google Images