Indian Song by A.E. Russell is a beautiful Brahma poem as has been Emerson’s Brahma. The poem tells of the calm composure and poise of Brahma, the beautiful creation as his handiwork. How has the universe been created? It has been named Indian Song as for the creativity and imagery of Brahma. The flower-like creation is the work of the god. The poem is a tribute to the same creator. How is the creation like a lotus, serene, calm and pure? How the petals? But his abode, how will it be? An Irish writer, how could he express such a beauty? This startles us and it is also our mistake that we could not prescribe him in our syllabus for English studies.

Mountains loom over with their snow just like the shadowy-petalled lotus and from the sapphire Soma flood of glory arises it when in yellow splendor Brahma appears on.

When light seems to be ceasing and the fairy lights of the day fading away, the tiny planet folk keep waving at from a distance, and this is but by Brahma’s grace.

It is Brahma’s all alone gladness which but gleams all through the space. Whose handiwork is this creation? How is his entire creation? How is his work? How is the lotus of his creation? His labor, how to appreciate it?

How does darkness envelope in? But up above the stars and planets keep burning the twinkling lamps of light and it startles us when we see the morning serenade broken by the break of sound, birds chirping and the disc of the sun reddening, glowing, peeping out to flash and shine out.

To read the poem is to be reminded of the creation stories. Who is Brahma? One among the Holy Hindu Trinity? How is his power? Has it diminished? Where are his temples?

From silence, things come out. From darkness, light breaks upon. How do the stars bedeck and beautify the dark universe? Light, how does it light up the fringes of the mountains, snow-laden peaks? Whose are the rosy horizons and how the flames keep it a-lit?

Shadowy-petalled, like the lotus, loom the mountains with their snows:
Through the sapphire Soma rising such a flood of glory throws
As when first in yellow splendour Brahma from the Lotus rose.

High above the darkening mounds where fade the fairy lights of day,
All the tiny planet folk are waving us from far away;
Thrilled by Brahma’s breath they sparkle with the magic of the gay.

Brahma, all alone in gladness, dreams the joys that throng in space,
Shepherds all the whirling splendours onward to their resting place.
Where in worlds of lovely silence fade in one the starry race.

George William  (A.E.) Russell, we wonder, how could he write such a beautiful text? An Irish poet, whom we could not appreciate and admire? How did the mystical flame flicker it in his poetry? A poet he was ahead of time, so Oriental, mystical, classic, Indological and Eastern.