Before vermilion of the dawning sun was thrown over the horizon,
And when the night stood still like a departing lover,
Casting a last long look on the sleeping world,
I heard peacocks break into a song
Rising and falling in hypnotic unison,
And amber crescent of the waning moon,
Heralding the arrival of the month of Magh,
Hung suspended silently,
As a witness to this passionate performance.
A warm breeze gently brushed at my arm,
A welcome surprise from yesterday’s chilly wind.
The cold tide of the winter was ebbing,
And I could almost hear,
Faint yet pleasant, like a baby's Silver anklet
Footsteps of the spring.