I like this sail in the silence
of a diamond night’s pride
under the cashew crescent moon,
blushing like a glittering bride
to the winks of the sapphire lake.
The trees are swaying, singing
odes to Wordsworth,
adding colours to his verses
from their rainbow blooms.
The night jasmines are adorning us,
you and I,
with garlands of their white pearls.
We are getting married again,
with greetings from Nature.
A rich wedding indeed!
This moment is an aurelian memory
for age, like time, is a mere nothingness
and now if death shall invite me,
I shall graciously accept it with glee.