A music I heard somewhere
Still lingers in my ears
The memory as fresh as new
As though it were a winter morning dew.
The rambling of the people
The clanging of the wheels
The rustle of the leaves
The bustle of the city.
Such a long journey had irked me
‘Where are we going?’, I asked brusquely
They fumbled and mumbled inaudibly
I repeated my question obstinately.
It was the last night perhaps
Of shimmering moon and twinkling stars
I am now in a world unknown
Looking into the sky forlorn.