By Ganti Savitri Devi
Once upon a time,
There lived a man sublime;
There was music in his voice,
To the listeners’ hearts’ rejoice;
His fingers on the Veena’s strings,
Swayed us on to blissful springs;
His music had charm to bring in rain,
He made ‘Harikatha’ supremely reign;
His cute ditties and sweet melodies,
Told His stories, sang His glories;
He pranced and danced
In rhythm and rhymes;
He walked and talked
For Him of all times;
Readily, languages became his own,
For his memory too, he was well-known;
From his heart, gushed poetry,
As a mountain stream pours free;
In him, all arts cheerfully met
There can never be another like him, I bet;
He was Light to the sight,
And to hearts, Delight;
Him those who saw,
To him bowed in awe;
And he bowed to none,
But to the mighty One;
In great exhilaration,
Voices declared in unison;
‘Goddess of learning descended,
And took his form,
splendid’;
Adibhatla Narayana
Das, his name,
An emperor in music and literature in fame;
He and his, His stories,
Shine in Time’s Glories.
(Excerpted from Drops in
Rain)
