Swain's Proposal Poem by Goutam Hazra

Moon is so jealous
Never says,
“Arjyaneela, your beauty is my light.”

Cool wind too
Has never been so soothing
Soprano to my ears - as your mezzo

Flowers are not my motif
As your opaline eyes are my muse

Could be the raining cloud
like your panicle hair

Sprigged muslin
in your silhouette
gleams like luminous stars

Pavane I see never
any ocean can play
as your dupatta does

The pride of sundown even buzzes off
your cinnabar bindi
like an asphodel
when it blooms on your forehead

If so transcendental you are
what else can be my be canto
except 'loving you death unto'