I dared not, to look at his eyes,

Even while he was singing his song,

Oh! Why is there so much pain in Love?

I knew You were listening,

But You choose not to reveal Yourself,

Lest he stops his song…

Hiding behind the shadows of the bushes,

Peeping through the creepers,

At midnight, I stayed on.

He wouldn’t leave You either!

Song after song…

He was crying freely,

What would it matter?

Even if the whole world listened to him,

You choose to hide from him that night.

The ancient pillars of the temple,

The ceiling with its sculpture,

And Your statue - all made in stone,

Just mute witnesses to the cries of a songster?

Tired and exhausted,

With no more tears left in his eyes,

He concluded his song,

Ready to fall asleep on the stone floor.

I was rattled and annoyed,

There is no reward for love,

It is just madness and weakness,

I crept out of my hiding,

To get closer,

To see his face.

Even as I climbed the steps,

I was shocked and thrilled,

Under his head,

Was a thick garland of roses,

Cushioning it from the hard floor,

I knew he had not got up at all…

For the first time, I saw the smile,

Your statue always had…