Madhumati

Madhumati

For her face was wisdom, her door a stairway to art.

Her lips guardians of song, such was the beauty of Madhumati.

And he sculpted desire, in the beat of heaven.

In the land of Nataraj, Sibu ruled with love.

He was a moth to her flame,
She was the wind and he was vane.
A tale of love, pride, ambition, art and some things vain,
When dance and music came down from the heavens like rain.

Nataraj ruled over the coastal Indies;
From the malabar to the rann of kutch,
Across the deccan, to the ghats,
Reminiscent of an empire mighty as the shivalik range.

Sibu sang paeans, hymns and odes a plenty,
Of valour, happiness, bravado and gaiety.
Madhumati danced to a sound beautious,
A nrityanagana, a dancer, a poetess, a ditty

The land was vast, a never ending paradise,
Mountains, rivers, flatlands, mangroves and coastal beaches.
Crop ripened, milk flowed and honeysuckle in every flowerbed,
A land so bountious, that it may breathe life into the dead.

Soil fertile, sediments, rocky, alluvial and drained,
The krishna, the cauvery, and the godaveri, a symphony they played.
Amidst the gorges and the ravines of the ghats,
Draining the water from the sea to the shore and way past.

Mung, Urad, Horsegram, grew in the savannah,
Not a foe in sight, noone a pariah.