Monday, April 06, 2009


A tune and its refrain hauntingly crooned
While a guitar is strummed in soulful rhythms
A mellow leitmotif for a kundiman
Plaintive words from an ignored swain
A lad emoting as only a lovelorn can

As if obliged the moon shone bright at
A night that was quiet except for the chirps
Of pesky nocturnal winged creatures
Thoughtless of the pain of a boy in swoon
In sympathy the dogs did not bark at the moon

The kundiman played on and on
While the strings struggled to keep pace
With the erratic rhythm of a dragged out tune
Sang by a smitten singer looking at a window
That stayed closed hiding a fair maiden's face

Oh, the promises were high and plentiful
The sadness and the sting of rejection heavy
For a moment even the mocking nocturne of chirps
Subsided as if relenting to the heart-rending pleas
Ever eloquent in words and in song

The nacred windows stayed unopened
All through the cold and hostile darkness
A song that can soften dark angels' hard core
Fell on unhearing ears and an indifferent heart
No matter, the harana will play on as it always did

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