In a Sanatorium

The white linen

I am wrapped in

Reminds me of

Death and coffins.

The impersonal nurse

Whose footsteps I hear

Coming down the stairs

Would keep me awake

For the rest of the night.

No morphine or barbiturate

Could bring back my sleep

That I had lost

Like those yester years.

I have surrendered

Myself to this wretched state

That was my ultimate fate

And hopelessly look

At the starless night

Perhaps to measure

The depth of darkness

With my poor sight.

I count the difficult moments

With expectation and patience

That the sun would shine

With its magnificent pride

And bring another day

Into my ailing life

A few more breaths

A sense not so blunt

That I can dream and hope

About the man I love.

In the morning

I shall beg the sun

To set in the west horizon

So that in twilight

My love can come

To hold my hand

With assurance and honour.

And then perhaps

He will urge me to walk

Towards the sprawling garden

Where lily and chrysanthemum

Await us to welcome.

Where I shall smell

The flavour of life

In the greenness of grass

In the colourful wings

Of the bees and flies.

A sudden flow of radiance

Shall brighten my eyes

And the big krishnachura tree

Shall shed its red petals on me

Which will bring back in me

A sense of joy and ecstasy

And allow me to dream

For another day to live.