I Heard the Thrushes (Satis Shroff)
Ah, I heard the thrushes this morning,
Among the bushes.
It feels like Spring.
The blackbirds, finches and swallows
Have kept me company in winter.
The stone walls and brown eaves
Are wet with constant rain.
The grey clouds have given to faint blue skies,
The mists from the valleys have disappeared.
I see the blue Schwarzwald ranges,
With spurs, meadows and treelines,
Painted in a light Prussian blue.
On the slope above the house a pair of deer come
To pick leaves and soft petals,
Stay awhile and move silently away,
Bringing me hope of Spring.
My mind wanders far away to the Indian subcontinent,
And the Mahabharat hills of Nepal,
People celebrate basanta panchami,
And pray to Goddess Saraswati,
To acquire knowledge at every age.
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