MAY BUDS: DAY 7: WILLIAMSJI WRITES, MY BEAUTY IS DEAD

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• MAY BUDS: DAY 7
• WILLIAMSJI MAVELI WRITES,
• MY BEAUTY IS DEAD

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Season's distress,

Roaring whirlwind, frost,

Have conceded,

Cleansed the flattened paths,

 Silent gardener has

Sprinkled with residue;

The darkest clouds

Circles on your sky face;

Your deep blue eyes were

Mutilated away by hurricane;

Yet in my garden there is

No more trouble;

The winter's blade is

Buried in the earth

Wild music is the

Cry that none heard;

My beauty is dead;

Now I shall carry her

To my home grave-yard;

Let me sleep with her

At least for tonight

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BY

WILLIAMSJI MAVELI

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