FIVE TANKA

1

Her letter smells

the lotus she wore each time

meeting in the dark:

I touch her fingers again

with all the hopes and passion

2

The chilly twilight—

tossing leaves and branches

tell of the wind

before sunrise she and I

cross-legged, cling to each other

3

Awaiting the wave

that’ll wash away empty hours

and endless longing

in this dead silence at sea

I pull down chunks of sky

4

At the river-front

in-drawn with Buddha’s image

in padmasana

eyes half-closed, meditating

his eyes not yet opened

5

The wind lifts

her curved nudity hidden

in the water curtain:

I touch the strings that whisper

love in each falling drop

--R.K.SINGH