Nightingale,
So pretty a tale...
But why put in a cage?
Passing by the pane,
I see her struggling every day...
Nightingale,
So pretty a tale...
Looks at me,
Then fights every rail...
Sometime beak,
Sometime wing,
Grazing them all...
But always,
Glancing the blue sky...
Tiny black pearls,
Shining the liquid light...
Nightingale,
So pretty a tale...
What’s stopping me,
To open the cage?
Is it my own fear?
Not to see you again?
But I can’t see you,
In so much pain...
Please open the cage-door!
Nightingale,
So pretty a tale...
‘Fly away pretty little!’
‘Fly away to the skies,
unknown!’
With puzzled eyes,
She looks...
‘To where...’
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On D Shore
Dance is the Song... the Wind... the Freedom... Dance is the Hidden Language of the Soul...
Endless
On D Shore
Followers
My few lines...
Like Wind that cannot be captured...
Like Sand that flows through...
Like depth of Ocean that cannot be measured...
Like gushing Rivulet that surges askew...
Heart lives...
Profound, Time Unbound...
Like Sand that flows through...
Like depth of Ocean that cannot be measured...
Like gushing Rivulet that surges askew...
Heart lives...
Profound, Time Unbound...
Yahoo!
It’s not how you forget,
but how you forgive…
It’s not how you listen,
but how you understand…
It’s not how you see,
but how you feel…
It’s the two souls touching,
without a blend.
The two flanking fingers of the hand…
It’s the hold you have,
without the grip...
The true love in all hardships...
but how you forgive…
It’s not how you listen,
but how you understand…
It’s not how you see,
but how you feel…
It’s the two souls touching,
without a blend.
The two flanking fingers of the hand…
It’s the hold you have,
without the grip...
The true love in all hardships...
1 comment:
therz a saying in malayalam, which roughly translates to 'prison is a prison even fi you are in a cage made by gold'. this one reminds me of that....
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