Black Marigolds (Chaurapanchasika) · 1919
34
Translated by E. Powys Mathers (Black Marigolds, 1919)
Even now
I mind our going, full of bewilderment
As who should walk from sleep into great light,
Along the running of the winter river,
A dying sun on the cool hurrying tide
No more by green rushes delayed in dalliance,
With a clear purpose in his flower-flecked length
Informed, to reach Nirvana and the sea.
Cite this text
MLA
Bilhana. Black Marigolds (Chaurapanchasika), 34. Translated by E. Powys Mathers. Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/work/black-marigolds-mathers/33/.
Chicago
Bilhana. Black Marigolds (Chaurapanchasika), 34. Translated by E. Powys Mathers. Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/work/black-marigolds-mathers/33/.