What do you seek, O Sun!
And from whom do you seek?
Across the skies, along the shores,
Behind the dunes, atop the peaks,
O, incessant wanderer, what do you seek?
Emanating from the quiet of the ocean,
And dissolving back into it, since ages
The rhythm of your eternal sojourn,
Has breathed life into the stillness of shores.
The perpetually wandering breeze too,
Finds rest in the infinite silence, of
The trail of your nebulous footprints,
That begins and ends with the skies,
Confining the horizon to its fold.
The pilgrim’s prayers, the hermit’s hymns,
Voyagers all, in the boats of dreams,
Rowed by thoughts,
Rocked by words,
Caressed by clouds, and
Guided by the starry hopes,
Mesmerized, watching you,
Following your blazing trail, wondering
What do you seek, O Sun, and from whom?
Do you seek the boats, or their course,
That merged with the waves, or
Their anchors devoured by the depths, or
The song of the sails, tales of the oars,
Or, just the destination of the breeze, but
Do you really seek something, O Sun?”
“I wait for the poet’s dreams to wake up,
In the eyes of the sapling that sleeps,
Cuddled up, sheltered in the seed.
And my rays seek the echoes of his songs,
Trudging homewards from far off lands,
To come to light the lamp at the lonely altar,
And sing the promised lullaby.
In my incessant wandering,
Across the skies, along the shores,
Behind the dunes, atop the peaks,
Your solitude I seek, O Poet!”
