O season of ripe beauty, you I greet!
Whose heart is love's calm wisdom at its throbbing core;
Your deep hues and myriad colors make the soul's wings beat
And lift a lover like me to your ambrosial shore.

Through you Nature weeps its precious golden tears,
In you a mortal eye could glimpse its native Immortality,
O endless fount of inspiration to the poet-seers
To be bound by your embrace is to be truly free!

A glad earth bathes in your benign and lustrous smile
And man's heart thrills with an unknown rapture and delight
By your whispers and footfalls and flute-call beguiled,
An ancient kinship links him to your celestial height.

A brimming of golden sweetness in your dreaming eyes
Fills the world with the beauty of a realm divine,
The sun's last rays serenely trickle from your purple skies:
I send my love and song and call your blessings mine.


--Abhinabha