To The Nightingale Of India(Lataji) Poem by shuvo chakraborty

If there has been goddess any
Of sylvan rhyme and strain,
Of immortal swings of endless fineries
Sweetened all the earth and heaven
With fast flowing voice yet of rhythm and restraint,
It is thou Minerva of Oracle born of orient
Singular in awaking awe and respect by thy lute
With gracious singing, self-restrained gorgeous elf
In simplest demure of humankind
Not to have belief of any celestial decent.
Adieu thy mortal self which born to die
But not of your melodious renditions
Which forever haunt the tender minds
To ponder what ye was and not
In ever running cycle of birth and death.
Consumed may be by mysterious death
But the engulfing fire will see the rebirth of a new Angel
Speeding thy melodious messages to the heaven
On galloping horse back of most cherished memories.