N. RANGANATHAN
All thro the garish day
The
moth lay bidd’n in shady bow’rs
But as soft ev’ning
came
With
gentle Zephyr balmy fragrance
Lo! she unfurled her
wings
And sped fast to her lover – The Flame.
She fluttered and danced with joy
And in her rare ecstacy
of love
In her fierce delight of surrender
She died!
Even so wert Thou, my love,
Suffering when loving, ceasing when
hungering.
–COURTESY Mr. C. A. Reddy
24 Nov. 1919