The Inhabitants of Chitrabhanu

They are gone now.
And what remains—
a residue of weariness,
a shadow of joy
where once the days
were noisy with stories,
colored with laughter,
with the ecstasy of being together.
For a long time now
I have not dreamt
any impossible dream.
The boys—
they were kind,
the girls—
like green leaves of spring.
Their laughter,
their eyes,
brimmed with visions.
It was an unbroken coexistence,
an unstoppable rhythm
of light and vitality,
that day, here,
before it unraveled.
One by one they departed,
pressed by life,
scattered to its edges,
some vanishing altogether
into the blind road of fate.
Today I recall—
those days were good.
Moments passed swiftly,
in smiles and play.
Now they are gone,
and my chest holds only emptiness.
The garden chairs lie vacant,
collecting drops of dew.
No longer do I care
to look upon the beauty
of this world.
Eyes remain,
but sight does not.
They are gone.