One Night, last Night

A lover craving for one last night with her lover, who just returned from the biggest battle, emerging victorious.

Its midnight, winter moon is out 
flowers blossom, dancing in light, 
the great war has ended at last
the hero's return home till peace last

The house smells of jasmine and roses
the fragrance carried by the breezes
A house lit with lamps and candles 
my hands full of sparkly bangles

i stand by the door, waiting alone 
looking at the winter moon as it shone 
a cold wind came and enveloped me 
I sat down there, resting on a tree

resting i was enjoying a drizzle
the night was cut sharply by a whistle 
i snapped awake, eyes open, ears sharp 
watchman and his whistle, it’s no harp

I stand here, wrapped in cold wind 
my lover was returning from the Sind
returning as hero he deserves to be 
coming back tonight, to his love, to me

from the war he has returned, a hero
a hero for many, and in my heart too 
the history shall remember him ever 
i cannot forget him ever, never

he shall be remembered for his wars 
the wars he won, the bodies he slays
remembered for his sword and gore 
thats how he shall be written in yore

He shall be remembered as the king,
his tales shall be sung all spring 
bards shall sing of his many victories 
all shall sing and dance in the breeze

the city is dancing and singing tonight
they rejoice for the heros, all night 
today they shall celebrate, till dawn 
then shall they be upon my lawn

the king, the great warrior, my love 
lies wrapped in red, he was my love
while the entire city celebrates tonight, 
i stand, asking for one night, last night

This poem is feelings of Mastani on hearing Bajirao’s death, based on folklore BajiraoMastani
One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.