O my Monalisa! Alas! Without you, I am indeed a precarious pauper,
Turns stale and tasteless my hot and scrumptious supper,
The fragrance of the blooms of my bliss turns foul and odorous,
The mesmerizing music of showers fail to spur to dance my peacock joyous!
O my Monalisa! Alas! Without you, the main root of my hope soon withers,
The twins of doldrums and despondency cut off my enthusiasm bird's feathers,
The elation of my moony night gets darkened by an eclipse of insignificancy,
The bounding brook of my bouyancy meets abruptly with a river of sad stagnancy!
O my Monalisa! Alas! Without you, the shining sapphires turn shaggy, palid pebbles,
The scent of the sandalwoods seems too commonplace as that of the bland brambles,
The melodies of the koyels turn as drab, raucous and harsh as that of the crows,
The sunny days are replaced by the dark nights; and the sweetest smiles by sourest sorrows!
How can then I, O my Monalisa, think of an inconceivable separation from you,
For, how can the lonely oxygen of my life exude water without the inevitable H2?
Copyright: Shankar D Mishra 30.01.2021
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