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Jiten Biswal

Drama


3  

Jiten Biswal

Drama


Nira’s Tale Of Love: II

Nira’s Tale Of Love: II

1 min 12 1 min 12

Pompous humanity favoured her;

Born poor in real grace and sober.


Shaken leaves hanging fruits and unearthed root;

The face of ecstasy makes her moot.


Mirrored in water; even moon mourned in the night;

Her wet busy hairs lazily set a fright.


Shinning fading ripples of memory,

Forged her swimming to bank unseen.


Her low brow shone like a lost pearl;

Neither I nor you can touch her curl.


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