Holi

Krishna returned as Khusrau

Bearing the heart of Radha

The cowherd of blue pranks

Trapped in a parrot’s pining

A god of amorous glances

Going blind before a nizam

His flute once bound the feet

His tabla now frees the anklets

The delirious colours of Braj

Smear their fabric on Persian

The countless eyes of lovers

Now a beloved’s infinite gaze

Love does not sing of recovery

Tuned to the raga of drowning

If the heart’s face is one colour

Its eyes, says Khusrau, has many.

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