She’s Eternally Mine
Of all the seasons she is spring that springs,
Among all the arts she is a picture drawn,
Of the calender months she’s as the December’s end,
Of the flowers, she has Jasmine’s fragrant scent.
Of all the birds she is the peaceful pigeon white,
In the songs we hear, she is the lullaby sung right,
Fruit as a ripe Mango, she is ever sweet,
Her presence in the air is felt as the caressing breeze.
In the smile of a baby, my baby smiles,
In the blanket of mist, this girl hugs me tight.
As a mother, she keeps me warm in her closed eyes,
She made a poet of me in this song tonight.
–Srirangam Ramesh