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“By the time he was by her shores, it was the twilight hour And he stood witness to their blending in celestial communion His tired eyes beheld the amber of her blushes drip into her tresses And ripple in a gentle zephyr of his caresses In her ankles he saw the white frills of a long turquoise robe, Replete with the tinkling of her anklets Like the many dead whose ashes are dissolved in her waters, He emptied in her the remnants of his memories, so there remained no trace of his old self, Like a monk who does self-oblation, shunning all bondages of an insignificant past He wished to be reborn in the same life, a different man with a different name – A man with no yesterdays and no tomorrows” — Rasal
By the time he was by her shores, it was the twilight hour
And he stood witness to their blending in celestial communion
His tired eyes beheld the amber of her blushes drip into her tresses
And ripple in a gentle zephyr of his caresses
In her ankles he saw the white frills of a long turquoise robe,
Replete with the tinkling of her anklets
Like the many dead whose ashes are dissolved in her waters,
He emptied in her the remnants of his memories, so there remained no trace of his old self,
Like a monk who does self-oblation, shunning all bondages of an insignificant past
He wished to be reborn in the same life, a different man with a different name –
A man with no yesterdays and no tomorrows