Abhey Gupta

Tag: Hope

  • Dreamer

    Like the memoirs of a day,
    I welcome these winds;
    like your breath,
    I breathe this night, every day.

    And like the night that comes every day,
    I come with the hope of you;
    and like the silent whispering of love at night,
    I love you, each day.

  • Day with Self

    Before the moon dwells, before the sun rises,
    I watch the shore after night;
    glimmering in the shadow of light,
    wherever my eyes rush — to you.

    And I keep on talking to you, until
    you wake up in the light of the sun;
    and I find you everywhere,
    but I am never going to stop it,
    till I am in your arms, and out of the existence-race.

    And the raindrops keep on falling on my head…
    and I am lost in you — my mother, nature.

  • This Life Again

    Far from the shadow of yesterday,
    a haze of a new day, and a dawn of fate;
    with the beautiful memories of you,
    I wonder at this life again.

    Beneath the pillow of dreams,
    under the hope of an endless sky,
    I gaze through the eyes of the present —
    I welcome this life again.

    Thorns of desire, and the pale;
    flowers of love, and of hate;
    and with time, you smile —
    I love this life again.

    Endless is my way, my journey;
    speechless, the thoughts of mine;
    and with one glance of yours one day,
    I contemplate this life again…

    Into the surrey of the day,
    you welcomed not my silence;
    with the end, it starts again and again —
    I am lost in this life again…

    Secretly, in the span of time,
    the worthless seems so worth again;
    and with the final words of the way,
    and with you, I wonder at this life again…

  • Morning at Mourning

    Beneath the moon, up in the sky,
    the wind is blowing, high tide;
    I fear not the losing —
    I am travelling with time.

    Morning with light, morning with a smile,
    morning of freedom, morning of cessation;
    though not always morning —
    sometimes a morning at the mourning of a lost one,
    the mourning of what is left behind.
    But this mourning is better than a morning
    without oneself, lost in the darkness of last night.

  • Sky of Memory

    I gaze up to the endless sky,
    the blue, the vast, with countless tries;
    alone, and in groups, flying high,
    the birds of the sky pass by me…

    I find my colour in the clouds of the sky;
    life is beautiful, ever — no denying;
    and in the morning dawn,
    I wonder, watching, all day long…

    I open my eyes, and I am flying in the sky;
    you are everywhere, here.
    With the melody of the winds, blowing high,
    I gaze at this gazeless sky…

    I look to the farther sky,
    everything in miniature, potent in itself;
    though far from dreams and reality,
    the sky is raining with love today…

  • Adieu

    Pluck her not like a flower,
    though she is the most beautiful of all…
    Care for her like a child,
    for she carries the one within her heart…

    Ever look beyond her smile —
    she holds a whole spring of happiness…
    She has everything, and yet
    she deserves more than a shadow of you…

    And one morning, we cheer;
    but she is in everything, and shines…
    Far beyond the horizon of imagination,
    she is the one — with everything in her eyes…

    And travelling every day through her memories,
    I wonder: is she the journey, or the destination?
    But should I ever find the most beautiful place,
    it would be no better than her heart…

    The longer you stay with her, in joy,
    the more beautiful the memories she makes — forever.
    Her eyes may seem lost and alone at times,
    but she is more beautiful than ever…

  • Divide of Time

    A sea of hope, or the death of desire,
    and the curling thread of thoughts
    conspire — the smaller, the shadow of light;
    yet harder it is to get by, in this time of thine.

    But I cross the bridge with the company of her smile,
    and in all that is left — the happiness of her, and mine.

  • यह ज़िन्दगी

    कभी लगे ज़िन्दगी दरिया-सी छोटी, तो कभी सागर-सी गहरी;
    एक रोज़ रात के सन्नाटे को जीती, और किसी रोज़ चाँदनी में जगमगाती।
    एक कल से भागते हुए, एक कल को बुनते हुए — जीते हैं हम यह ज़िन्दगी;
    न जाने किस ओर जाती हुई, लड़खड़ाती और चलती हुई — यह ज़िन्दगी।

  • Who’s She?

    Alone, I was defying the world,
    when she became my company;
    the faster I reached for the sky,
    the more she was framed in memories.

    Like the changing weather,
    I came to cry again in the raining beauty,
    and alone, she sailed my way back to the sky —
    never resisting the serenity.

    All the way she travelled in a parity,
    and all I could give was another parting;
    and like an eclipse,
    it shadowed my soul, and my clarity.

    All I wondered was the joy of another divide,
    and I travelled a year of disclosing;
    but she came, a queen, and conquered the lost world,
    and flowered joy like a sceptic beauty.

    All the way she travelled alone,
    but never let me feel the same;
    and now I wonder — who is she,
    and why is she doing so much for me?
    And she smiles, and whispers something.

  • For and Ever

    I do realize when goodness walks into my life
    and becomes my friend, forever;
    I do smile when she smiles back,
    and how it becomes another memory.

    I do cry when she goes away —
    but out of everything, I miss her the most;
    and when I lay my head on the greener grass
    and feel the touch of her,

    I watch her walking by me,
    like the best friend ever — and forever.