Embrace me my love... Embrace me.
As the enormous sounds around us crash,
Artificiality of neon lights commerces us across the shelf
Street like we pass into stinking trash
And a convoluted matrix un-simplifies, ourself from ourself.
Remember that one time when we flew
Flew and flew and the skies seemed just steps away?
Now, metal-asphalt is all the eyebrow drew,
You in this dark my love, my only day.
This world, its frenzy and its 'life', this rapacious city
disgusts the human soul of even a prude.
You I experience as my soul's smithy
And the temporary evidence of momentary lassitude.
Jeering eyes, denuding even passing expecting mothers
Filth on road and mind, hail modern liberal czars!
With Humidity for mosquitoes and dirty reptiles
aridity of this abusive race can shame a thousand Thars.
How their thoughts on incompetent runways seek flight
And however high they take to sky
Crash into limitless buildings, and despite
high ideals, never as high fly.
Banish this burning world to its czars
Our human soul has already enough scars.
Embrace me love, and with compassionate tears
Let me embrace thee.
When we are together, we are a world apart
These shrill voices can practise elsewhere their art
Just take me, and make me
Make me, and break me.
Embrace my words out of me
Empty me slowly of this energy
This energy which makes me want, and weep.
Slowly in your arms, put me to sleep.
Now, now, right now come and to me, thee glue.
Let's see what I then felt was partly or wholly true?
Did we experience real-ly and yet register not?
What crossed us then love? What?
We felt we would embrace into each other
And just as I felt nothing could more tightly hold,
we went to hold each other even closer.
Did we not feel then that we could, if we open
our sightless eyes, see behind each other the empty walls?
Did we feel that our faces were contorted and alas!
There hardly was any sweat, though there was.
Did we keep ourselves aside somewhere and
Let the human soul - a word which due to
this newly gained competence of sad mediocrity of our race, we use with trepidation -
take of our semi-lives, a full presence?
Did we feel that at that moment you remained not you?
Cliche as it is, it was so, it was, it is true.
Do we fear to say that the great Donne's art
(of a Johnson's scorn) said to us the truths
which more than those insincere satires, we felt in our heart?
'Leave the city, and with the village ourself collate'.
Village, where the 'khap panchayats' the stench of insanitation accentuate?
Leave, leave all this love and let us into each other drape.
Create within this city,
our own Innisfree and Xanadu's landscape...
Let the village and the city and nations and polity,
take a break. Let us love again, and into each other's embrace, escape.