ODE TO A MILKMAID

   

 











               1)   There she moves like a dryad of the trees
                      Dressed in rustic clothes with curious design
                      With a long stick in her hand to drive her kine
                      Treading with casual air through morning breeze
                      Her braided hair dallied with wild bowers
                      The creepers shed on her dew-decked flowers.

                2)    She runs freely through village green
                        Leading her cattle with a lusty shout
                       Through winding ways she moves about
                        A buxom lass in her lovely teens
                        Munching peanuts or home-made bread
                        A care-free happy spirit she spread.

                3)     Resting awhile in dark green shade
                        Keeping vigil on straying beasts
                        Letting out a sharp cry in mid-day's heat
                        She treads with nimble gait to the sheltering shade
                        To quench her thirst from grass-laden brook
                        Splashed water and dangling locks she shook.

                4)     Humming now and then a rustic song
                        Driving her cattle with casual ease
                        Care-free, unperturbed with joy and peace
                        Like an uncrowned queen she flits along
                        Till sunset, as the sky turns dusty brown
                        She returns to her hamlet far from town.



           

  














  

           














                5)     At eve she brings pails of milk warm with foam
                        With pots upon her head well-poised she walks
                        Along with friends she merrily talks
                        With beaming eyes she doth merrily roam
                        Her unblemished smiles like stars in milky way
                        Add grace to her face as fresh as lotus gay.

                6)     Her jingling anklets ring rhythm to her gait
                        Her bangles tinkle as she moves apace;
                        Bearing her burden on her head she glides with grace
                        Hard labor adds joy to her state
                        In her bright folded attire doth she appear
                       The gopi of Brindavan filled with cheer.

               7)     Sporting with blue-skinned Lord in human form
                       Sharing the nectar of ecstatic bliss
                       The fair milk-maids of Mathura kiss
                       The foot-prints of Krishna with youthful charm
                       Beside the dark blue waters of Jamuna calm
                       Listening to Krishna's flute with affection warm.

              8)      As gopis played, frolicked and screamed
                       Treating the Lord as their dearest mate
                       Forgetting all, in ecstatic state;
                       A veritable, visual feast it seemed
                       As pea-cocks danced and birds full-gazed perched still
                       While cattle stood entranced on vale and hill.

             9)       No more can I behold her in these times
                       Where are those jingling bangles and pretty smiles?
                       Where are those fresh milk-foaming pails?
                       No lovely lass with ringing chimes;
                       With a raucous sound a milk sachet thrown
                       Skimmed and frozen, as the milk-man rushes down.

                                     =====================   


           1)  Dryad-- a nymph inhabiting the trees according to Greek legends.
           2)  gopi  -- a milk maid or cowherdess
           3) Brindavan  -- the place where Lord Krishna played with gopis.
           4)  kine           --- an archaic word for "cattle or cows"  

         Note: In this poem I tried to re-create the typical rustic climate where the
                   milkmaids graze their cattle and move freely through green pastures
                   and engage themselves in country pastimes and sports. They seem
                   to be carefree and spend their time happily in the company of their
                   friends and cattle. In this context one is reminded of the legendary
                   gopis who had the fortune of spending their time with Krishna and
                   sang and danced with him near the banks of Jamuna. In sharp contrast
                   we in modern times wake up on hearing the raucous cry of the
                   milk-man who throws a sachet of milk in haste and rushes off without
                   any greeting smile in a quite unemotional and mechanical routine way.

                                      *************************************************
          11th February, 2015                                         Somaseshu Gutala