The Sound

The Sound

From the time immemorial
I dwell here in this citadel of The Sound, like dense solitude.
In this Abode of The Sound, callous I breathe The Sound itself,
The very time of the sound engulfs the sound.
It was I myself who created The Sound and thereafter
went on erecting this citadel of The Sound therein.
As all my limbs ah! started turning into the sound
and nothing but the sound can they touch now.
When the sky kissing flag of the castle of The Sound spreads absolutely still
at the moment of a little space, a crevice in the sound for half a moment I the sound glimpse Thy silence, and feel it gliding close by.

And my mere wish to touch it lightly with a my fingertip
results in the infinite cracking of The Sound.
The Sound terrified of The Sound,  perspires The Sound itself.

If only I can unite with Thee, O the Dweller of the Abode of Silence.
Can I possibly unite with my own Self…
the immobility of the sound agitates me.
If only can I unite with Thee,
can I budge from this spot.
O! Somewhere this ocean of the sound must have a shore,
Somewhere it must have something like a horizon,
There must, O, must be something like its end, like its death also.
Somewhere must be the secret of the death of the sound,
hidden perhaps, in the nethermost world
must be the secret of the death of The Sound.

O piercing nails of The Sound
Now do try hard to tear apart the crocodile-skinned, time-hardened womb of The Sound.
So that I may unite with the Dweller of the Abode of Silence.
I may unite with the Dweller of Timelessness.
In the hot torrent of the blood gushing forth from the shattered heart of The Sound, I may unite with, be one with the Dweller of the Abode of Silence.