The Crying Dancing Girl

Tonight, I see a dancing girl,

Her body, like the birds of paradise, 

Swinging in the August wind,

Hundreds of eyes feasting on her form,

Mesmerized in her moves and shifts,

Laughter – as that of African hyena!

Tonight, I am among these hungry eyes,

A visual feast, right on the stage,

Alas! Oceans of tears, I can feel,

In her li’l eyes – hidden, tensed, 

Deeper inside her, like a stolen pearl,

In this li’l dazzling dancing girl.

Tonight, my eyes weep

With oceans of tears behind, tensed,

Deeper in my weakening eyes,

With a crying dancing girl,

Moving hither and shifting thither,

Like a trained Indian parrot,

With the beat, rhymes and rhythm,

Right here, beside me.  

Tonight, the dance is but an irony,

Sorrows coated with laughter,

Miseries seasoned with ecstasy,

And the audiences, as though like an owl,

Blinded by big bright blue bulbs,

All in, alas! High spirits!

Tonight, my heart is breaking,

With the scene of pretence,

Persistence and perseverance

Of this crying dancing girl,

Weeping like a child within,

Entertaining the heartless beings,

Until their ill-bred eyes close.        

Tonight, I will turn back, faraway,

Her tears and pain, I shall remember,

Her innocent dance-steps, in my heart, 

And shed some more tears down my cheeks,

Sob for days and nights, sniff sniff!

Yet, pretend a smile on my face,

For this li’l crying dancing girl!