Holi, the Spring Festival
Come Spring,
the colours swirl, splash, spill, and splatter
in the air like pyrotechnics
dance with the rhythm of drumming and singing
and settle on the wearied faces
creating a kaleidoscope of images!
A cold wind ruffles, and the world coldly rolls away.
Now that winter has gone,
no more white frost forming on the lakes and rivers,
treetops and housetops,
only colours on clarified butter-like faces;
the warm sun rises
and awakens the benumbed earth
to the calls of the koel and
gives a sacred birth in triumph!
Now all things in trees are puffed with smile,
the earth deepens with fun, laughter, and joy;
young grass sprouts and shoots long on the ridges and furrows,
lush and lovely as the water gurgles and ripples in the fields
and new leaves clothe the trees every day,
etching patterns against the clear blue sky as the cattle egrets circle and settle.
There is no season like Spring
when life bubbles in everything;
there is no life like Spring-life
when everything is born to die in glee;
there is no time like Springtime
when everything drowsy is muffled;
there is no festival like Holi, the Spring festival
when everything is dressed in youthful spirit
and lifted up by warmth and chivalry;
there is no happiness like Spring-happiness
when pleasant thoughts spring like the season,
unlatch the door to the garden of bursting of emotions
and merge with the colours, making life joyful forever!
