Chamarel

by Amit Parmessur

My tired mind takes its daily bath
in the pool of your mellifluous beauty.

O dunes of seven colors and infinite wonders,
why do your sands separate when I mix them?

Chamarel, my friend!
I can only imagine pink pigeons preening
in the lush and dewy gorges.

I can only see the kestrel collecting blithely
the sunrays along his feathers and
palavering with the silver rain.

I often try to imitate the original dance
of the spindly red sugar cane.
Are they drunk in some seggae too?

I find the children’s play and giant tortoises
so very cute.
O Chamarel, my dearest love!

I adore your secret garden, on the top of a mountain,
like an island in a sea of verdure.

I love the tropical rainforest whose
beauty lunges itself into the
sparkling sapphire sea, in perpetual, cheerful suicide.

In the blazing sunshine, the colors of my heart
sing out in beautiful radiance and sheer vibrance
at your beautiful vibrance and sheer radiance.

O Chamarel, my love, my friend!