The Winds Unto Me Carry A Song* Poem by Ravi Panamanna

(Smt. M S. Subhalakshmy, the Nightingale of India, had spent her early days in the temple city of Madurai. She was living in Hanumantharai Kovil Street, a dingy street. I happened to read about her reminiscences and the following composition was born. Date of composition 26th December 2004)
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The winds unto me carry a song* - 'Kaatrinile varum geetham' in Tamil.
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I remember the house
Where I was born,
The narrow street, those temple bells
And winds of yore.

The wandering cows,
The florists, the hawkers,
The bullock-carts, the wheel barrows,
All made a different air.

And to the scene
Children added their share.
And deep in the chest
Is the fragrance of Jasmine.

The springs were ceaseless,
The meads, windy and evergreen.
And upon the lap of mother’s Veena*,
My heart was a vibrant string.

My dawns were serene,
The bells played a divine music.
It was a becoming fountain,
It served the seed for all my winds.

And in the waking silence of stars,
Unto the depths of my heart,
I listened to an endless treasure
From my neighbor’s radio.

That was my Pourboire*,
Those were my enchanting nights.
Those were my waking winds,
Those were my deepening fountains.

And from those roots,
In the course of spanning years,
I reached many taverns,
I crossed many vales.

Now, from the once rich dales,
The springs are almost withdrawn.
The bird, after her endless lute,
Is preparing for her last flight.

And from these times,
I reflect unto my own roots.
The winds unto me carry a song,
Those gleeful nights unto me bring a Videre* of life.
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Veena* - A musical instrument (Her mother used to play Veena) .
Pourboire*- French- gratification.
Videre*- Latin- vision.