Wandering Soul
Wanders my soul, wanders alone..
Wanders inside those woods of darkness:
Musing about the candid songs-
Of the mysterious birds with long tails;
Dancing to the tunes of sweet melodies-
Of the flute played by the lazy shepherd
Who lay beneath the graceful fig tree..
Wanders my soul, dancing again.
Wanders my soul, wanders again..
In the fragrant orchid, infinitely stretched
With blossomed roses, colored crimson red;
(As if a dream were suddenly realized,
While my body still rests in the daisy-decor)
Expanding thoroughly in all dimensions of space
And time, as often, no limit from now.
Wanders my soul, expanding again...
Wanders my soul, wanders, being sane..
Away from the realms of this material globe,
Aloof of this flowing en masse of insolent attitudes;
Flying in the sky-lines of tranquil beatitudes,
Among the stars and the huge heavenly spheres,
Suspended in the vast universe of unknown birth;
Searching the Ultimate Source of Cosmic rays-
Wanders my soul! Here goes it, being sane!
Wanders my soul in this relentless rain,
Drops of which are frozen to depth;
Delving the secrets beneath this pigmentless white,
There again, on the top of the highest of cliffs,
Down to the green plain, to where, avalanche breaks;
So also, at nights of dreary nightmares,
Roaming everywhere incessantly with no aim:
Wanders my soul, bedraggled in rain.
Wanders my soul, insensitive to pain:
Through up-hills and downtowns of joys and merries;
Too, along the lighthouses, windmilles and prairies;
Walking on pavements used by the populations,
Yet to their feelings showing no sensation;
Listening to the cries of the more unfortunate,
Gently and swiftly glancing, not cursing their fate,
Wanders my soul, not wanting their pain!
Wanders my soul, wanders again,
Musing again, dancing again,
Dreaming again, expanding again,
Flying again, searching again,
Falling again, rising again,
Drenching in the monsoon rain,
Fearing again, daring again;
Wanders my soul, to nowhere again!!
(Perhaps with influences of Keats, William Blake, or as I recollect, the quote from Thoreau "In what concerns you the most, know that you are alone").
Wanders inside those woods of darkness:
Musing about the candid songs-
Of the mysterious birds with long tails;
Dancing to the tunes of sweet melodies-
Of the flute played by the lazy shepherd
Who lay beneath the graceful fig tree..
Wanders my soul, dancing again.
Wanders my soul, wanders again..
In the fragrant orchid, infinitely stretched
With blossomed roses, colored crimson red;
(As if a dream were suddenly realized,
While my body still rests in the daisy-decor)
Expanding thoroughly in all dimensions of space
And time, as often, no limit from now.
Wanders my soul, expanding again...
Wanders my soul, wanders, being sane..
Away from the realms of this material globe,
Aloof of this flowing en masse of insolent attitudes;
Flying in the sky-lines of tranquil beatitudes,
Among the stars and the huge heavenly spheres,
Suspended in the vast universe of unknown birth;
Searching the Ultimate Source of Cosmic rays-
Wanders my soul! Here goes it, being sane!
Wanders my soul in this relentless rain,
Drops of which are frozen to depth;
Delving the secrets beneath this pigmentless white,
There again, on the top of the highest of cliffs,
Down to the green plain, to where, avalanche breaks;
So also, at nights of dreary nightmares,
Roaming everywhere incessantly with no aim:
Wanders my soul, bedraggled in rain.
Wanders my soul, insensitive to pain:
Through up-hills and downtowns of joys and merries;
Too, along the lighthouses, windmilles and prairies;
Walking on pavements used by the populations,
Yet to their feelings showing no sensation;
Listening to the cries of the more unfortunate,
Gently and swiftly glancing, not cursing their fate,
Wanders my soul, not wanting their pain!
Wanders my soul, wanders again,
Musing again, dancing again,
Dreaming again, expanding again,
Flying again, searching again,
Falling again, rising again,
Drenching in the monsoon rain,
Fearing again, daring again;
Wanders my soul, to nowhere again!!
(Perhaps with influences of Keats, William Blake, or as I recollect, the quote from Thoreau "In what concerns you the most, know that you are alone").
-Siddartha Pamulaparty
Dt: 18/07/2002.
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