As the white moon rises today,
In this placid cool night,
In the darkness of ignorance,
In stillness and quiet,
A beauty unfurls her elegance here.

With the repetitive cries of the cicada,
And wooing of the breeze,
As though night was his bride,
And he loved her unleashed,
This beauty steals my peace.

The sun has succumbed, and so have I,
As nightfall wrapped the bright world,
One can but sit tongue-tied,
As how night charms her onlookers.

In this breezy ambience,
Amidst this unforgettable mirth,
I feel the anxiety of a lovesick dame,
Happy and gleeful, yet forlorn with fate,
As future is away and present is slack,

Night awaits Day to carry her away,
As leaves rustle in the frantic breeze,
As minds ponder over her mystery,
As trees silently observe her cry.

Night awaits her Day,
Day awaits his Night,
Joy anticipates Sorrow,
Love succeeds Betrayal,
But at the end of it all,
The circle goes on and on.

The moon – a testimony gazes,
Lazily at her benefactor,
As Night, like a nostalgic baby,
Waits to terminate her enigma,
She knows she’d be left again and again,
In the recesses away from her love,
Looking at the sky to get a gleam of Day,
She longs as a child and waits like a maid,
Day comes as dawn and extricates her despair,
She disappears in a jiffy as he appears.

Yet I wait to see her again,
To eye the beauty under a veil,
To merge with her verity,
To fall into her profundity,
As I lose, I wait to gain,
Amidst sorrow, amidst pain,
The clock ticks and reminds me,
I shall soon feel joy, unfeigned.