temple-visit

Light the hanging lamp, O priest, let the bronze bell sound its call,

That my soul may thrill and reverberate to the echoes in the granite hall.

That I may soar above the chiseled stone and feel the self-same awe

The Chola in his heyday felt -a thousand years ago!

The rat-race has be barren, drained, let me drink of my heritage:

O chant aloud the  sonorous hymns

From the dawn of the Vedic Age!

 

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