28th February 2006
Soft are the cushions I sit on
and cool is the summer air
How fresh are the trees around me
where grow flowers known to be rare
Warm is the sun on my face
and gold are the drops of dew
How fragrant are the flowers
near graceful peacocks, two
Safe is the place I am standing
between these many great mountains
How sweet is the water I drink
from dainty glowing fountains
Soft is the rustle of wind in the leaves
and deep is the waterfalls roar
But all its affect is wasted on me,
For I've heard a thousand times before.
P.L.Rao
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