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The Growing Season

The seasons work together
To make the world possible

Summer, the sun season
Fall, the leaf season
Winter, the snow season
And spring, the time of beauty

Summer, the yellow season
Fall, the orange season
Winter, the white season
And spring, the time of the rainbow

Summer, the blank season
Fall, the shadow season
Winter, the dying season
And spring, the growing season
The growing season

poem by Mye3
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Seasonal Cycle - Chapter 03 - Pre Autumn

"On the departure of rainy season bechanced is autumn with a heart-pleasingly bloomed lotus as her face, betokening the heart-pleasing face of a new bride, and the autumnal fields of white grass with whitish flowers as her apparel, which betoken the whitish bridal apparel of a new bride, and the amorously clucking clucks of swans that have just returned from Lake Maanasa as rains have gone, are the jingling anklets of autumn, which betoken the delightful jingles of anklets of new bride, and now the rice is ready to ripe and thus the tenuous stalks of rice, which have their necks a little bent down, betoken the obeisant face of a new docile bride...

"Blanched is the earth with whitish grass and the nights with silvery and coolant moonbeams of the moon, and the rivers with white swans, lakes with white-lotuses, and that forest up to its fringes with whitish jasmine flowers and with somewhat whitish seven-leaved banana plants that are swagging under the weight of their flowers...

"Presently the rivers are journeying slowly with a strutting of prideful lovely girls, for the raising and falling fishes of rivers seem to be the delightful sets of strings at the waistlines of rivers, like the sets of girdle-strings on the waists of girls, and the ranges of white waterfowls on riverbanks seem to be the whitish pearly pendants of rivers, like the pearly pendants around the bosoms of prideful girls, more so the broad sand-dunes at edges of those rivers appear to be the roundish fundaments of those rivers like that of those girls...

"With clouds that have doled out their waters, the vault of heaven is silvern somewhere, it is like the whitish conch shell elsewhere, and somewhere else it is palish like the stalks of lotuses, and the clouds on achieving their levity and moved by the speed of wind, they are splintered into hundreds of pieces and journeying away, and thus the sky appears to be a king fanned with royal-fans, called the swerving, splintering, and silvery clouds...

"The sky is looking like well-kneaded knoll of black mascara, and the earth is delightfully inscribed with the vermilion colour of safflowers that are flowered up to the visible horizon, and the swaths and even the ravines of earth are surrounded with charming lotuses... and on visualising such an environ, which heart of which adolescent person doesn't get up to a lot of ecstasy...

"When the slothful wind is slothfully stirring up the upper branches of red-golden coloured trees, that are most lovely with peaking tender leaflets, and with muchly outcropped flowers, from which nectar is muchly trickling, that which is overly drunk by the honeybees, and when such a sylvan scenery is seen, whose heart won't be riven...

"A girl burgeons as a damsel day by day, so the autumnal night is lengthening its night-time day by day, and as a damsel wears shiny jewellery on her nubility, this damsel, called the autumnal night, is wearing clusters of twinkling stars as her jewellery, as the veil of a damsel will be unveiled frequently presenting her face, these veils called clouds on the skyscape are now being unveiled to present the moonlike face of this autumnal damsel, and a damsel starts to wear raiment with unblemished whiteness at her pubescence, so also, this autumnal damsel's wraparound is the immaculate moonshine...

"Inaccessible were those rivers in rainy season even for the waterfowls, barring the people, for they were ferocious and feculent, but this autumn made them placid and pure, and hence the rows of ripples of their water are pecked with the beaks of partridges for their feed, and all over on their banks and riversides, flocks and flocks of cranes and drakes are bustling, and muchly cackling are the swans, and the rivers themselves are reddened with the red-pollen grains of red-lotuses, thus those spectacular rivers, riverbanks, and riversides are rejoicingly accessible even for the people...

"These days the moon is an eye-festival and heart-stealing with his profuse moonbeams, and he is the real gladdener for he is the sprinkler of fresh and coolant dewdrops through those moonbeams, but nowadays he alone is becoming an inflamer, for he is burning the bodies of the women, who are already felled by the arrow of Love-god, which arrow is daubed with the venom, which venom is nothing but their own lusting after their itinerant husbands, that are now separated from them...

"The wind being the prime mover in nature is now wiggling the well-ripened rows of rice stalks that are curvy under the weight of their cobs, and the same wind is waggling the best trees that are saggy under the weight of their flowers, and he alone is wobbling the fully bloomed clumps of lotuses in the lakes, moreover, thus he is vehemently wriggling the hearts of young men, with his lilting breezing and lively freshness...

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poem by Kalidasa
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Mad Season

I feel stupid - but I know it wont last for long
Ive been guessing - I coulda been guessin wrong
You dont know me now
I kinda thought that you should somehow
Does that whole mad season got ya down
I feel stupid but its something that comes and goes
Ive been changin - think its funny how now one knows
We dont talk about - the little things that we do without
When that whole mad season comes around
So why ya gotta stand there
Looking like the answer now
It seems to me - youd come around
I need you now
Do you think you can cope
You figured me out - Im lost and Im hopeless
Bleeding and broken - though Ive never spoken
I come undone - in this mad season
I feel stupid - but I think I been catchin on
I feel ugly - but I know I still turn you on
You seem colder now, torn apart, angry, turned around

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song performed by Matchbox 20
Added by Lucian Velea
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Mad Season

I feel stupid - but I know it wont last for long
Ive been guessing - I coulda been guessin wrong
You dont know me now
I kinda thought that you should somehow
Does that whole mad season got ya down
I feel stupid but its something that comes and goes
Ive been changin - think its funny how now one knows
We dont talk about - the little things that we do without
When that whole mad season comes around
So why ya gotta stand there
Looking like the answer now
It seems to me - youd come around
I need you now
Do you think you can cope
You figured me out - Im lost and Im hopeless
Bleeding and broken - though Ive never spoken
I come undone - in this mad season
I feel stupid - but I think I been catchin on
I feel ugly - but I know I still turn you on
You seem colder now, torn apart, angry, turned around

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song performed by Matchbox Twenty
Added by Lucian Velea
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Seasonal Cycle - Chapter 06 - Spring

"Oh, dear, with the just unfolded tender leaflets of Mango trees as his incisive arrows, and with shining strings of honeybees as his bowstring, the assailant named Vasanta came very nigh, to afflict the hearts of those that are fully engaged in affairs of lovemaking...

"Oh, dear, in Vasanta, Spring, trees are with flowers and waters are with lotuses, hence the breezes are agreeably fragrant with the fragrance of those flowers, thereby the eventides are comfortable and even the daytimes are pleasant with those fragrant breezes, thereby the women are with concupiscence, thus everything is highly pleasing...

"This Spring season endows prosperity to waters of swimming pools, and to moonshine, for their water or shine is pleasurable, and even to mango trees, as their flowers are just flowered, more so, to the bejewelled girdle strings of women, for their wearing is neither cumbersome nor irksome in this season, thus it endows prosperity to womenfolk of age, as they enjoy in wearing them, thus they too, become enjoyable, these days...

"These days the flirtatious women are adorning their roundish behinds with silk cloths that are dyed with Kusumbha flower's reddish dye, and their bosomy busts with thin silks that are dyed with ocherish and reddish colours, for thinness and silkiness are agreeable in this thinnish ambience...

"The womenfolk of age are now decorating their temples with just unfolded new whitish flowers of Karnikara, and with new and reddish Ashoka flowers and with whitish jasmines flowers in their blackish hair-locks that are swaying, thus unfolded is the beauty of these women, with the flourishing resplendence of these newly unfolded flowers...

"The bosoms of women with burly rumps, whose hearts are now flurried by the Love-god, are now sharing pearly pendants that are wetted with white sandal-paste that is bedaubed on their busts, and their biceps with circlets of bicep-lets, and their hiplines with the strings of cinctures, that are till recently unbearably coldish to touch... thus, the touch of season is romantic...

"The golden lotuses like faces of flirtatious women are tattooed with erasable foliage tattoos with black Kasturi lines, and in those designs sweat-drops are now percolating, with them those faces are delightfully beautified as gem-studded jewellery, interspersed with pearls...

"Now the limbs of womenfolk are flustered by the Love-god, thus they are panting for their need-fulfilment, hence they are now loosening the fastenings of their undergarments, since spring fever makes them sultrily fervent, thus they are enamoured of their lovers, who are tarrying at their nearby...

"The Love-god is making the limbs of sybaritic women as thinnish, palish and lethargic, and tending to yawn time and again, and with these syndromes the bodies of women are becoming restless in the spring fever, with an air of enchantment...

"Now the Love-god is diversely apparent in women, who are jaded out by hard drinks, for their eyes are fluttery, their cheeks are whitely, their bosoms are stony, their waists are slimly, and their behinds are sturdy... thus these features are the evidences for their seasonal infatuation with Him...

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poem by Kalidasa
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The Season Of Spring

THE SEASON OF SPRING

the season of spring
weather seems to sing
lovely lovely days
are coming our ways

the season of spring
blooming blossoming
of nature of all kind
let roots unbind

the season of spring
birds unfold their wings
diving high into sky
wish one could fly

the season of spring
careful hearts love sting
reaching out towards others

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poem by Morhardt Carmen Mencita Monoi Angel
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I'm A Fan

It’s football season again
I hope my team does well this year
Football season again
I’m a fan

It’s football season again
Spread that ball across the field
Football season again
I’m a fan

Through the cold and the rain
I’ll be there at the game
A voice screaming to be heard
I’ll cry sometimes, sometimes I’ll smile
As my voice echoes through the crowd
I’m a fan, I’m a fan, I’m a fan

It’s football season again
I hope my team does well this year
Football season again

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poem by Colin Coplin
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Out of Season

It's tragic!
And more sadistic it gets,
When a truth is left to sit...
To be decided by those most misfit.

It's tragic!
And more sadistic it gets,
When a truth is left to sit...
To be decided by those most misfit.

Integrity once had is not allowed.
Those made to feel a guilt,
Had walked so proud.
But now...
They're out of season.

It's tragic!
And more sadistic it gets,
When a truth is left to sit...
To be decided by those most misfit.

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Spring Song

The cuckoos and the swallows sing the spring song.
They just remind us of spring season.
The cuckoos and the swallows sing the spring song.
They just remind us of spring season.
One more time, I am on cloud nine!
One more time, I am on cloud nine!
To dance Bihu this season…

The cuckoos and the swallows sing the spring song.
They just remind us of spring season.

The spring breeze acts as my heart stirrer
The Red flowers redden my heart’s colour.
The beats of the Dhol cast its rhythmic flavour..
It rightly awakens some sleeping lover.
“O’ brothers, O’ boys! O’ come O’ girls! ! ”
“O’ brothers, O’ boys! O’O’O’ come O’ girls! ! ”
“Lets dance Bihu holding our hands together”
“Lets dance Bihu holding our hands together”.

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poem by Kamal Jyoti Borah
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Seasonal Cycle - Chapter 05 - Winter

"Oh, dear with best thighs, heart-stealing is this environ with abundantly grown stacks of rice and their cobs, or with sugarcane, and it is reverberated with the screeches of ruddy gees that abide hither and thither... now heightened will be passion, thereby this season will be gladdening for lusty womenfolk, hence listen of this season, called Shishira, the Winter...

"At this time, people enjoy abiding in the medial places of their residences, whose ventilators are blockaded for the passage of chilly air, and at fireplaces, in sunrays, with heavy clothing, and along with mature women of age, for they too will be passionately steamy...

"Presently, not the sandal-paste, which will be coolant like moonbeams of moon, nor the building tops, that were once rendered pleasant with the immaculate moonshine, nor the breezes, that are chilled by dense sleet... any of them is delightful for the people...

"The nights are unenjoyable for the people, for they are chilled with the huddles of snow, and further chilled by moonbeams of the moon, besides, these nights are ornamented very whitish clusters of cluttered and lacklustre stars...

"On taking betel leaves and their enclosing material like lime and areca-nut parings, and other fragrant material for chewing, and even handling body creams and tassels of flowers, for it is cool to wear them on, and with their lotus-like faces that are fragranced with delightful recreational drinks, the women are enthusiastically entering their bedchambers, that are desirably fragranced with the fumigation of aloe vera resin...

"On entering bedchambers seen are the irritant husbands irritating for the arrival of their wives, but once these husbands were at fault and they were daunted repeatedly earlier, hence they are now wavery, for their hearts are ciphered by their hesitation, and on looking at such husbands, who are now longing for lovemaking, the lustful women are overlooking their faults, lest time and opportunity fritters away... thus this season unites couples, though they are at loggerheads...

"The women that are new to adulthood are relentlessly gratified for a long time in longish nights, by young men who are muchly impassioned and lusting for their women, thus these young women after the end of night are moving about sluggishly in the morning, with their aching busts that are strained during last night's escapade...

"The womenfolk's breasts are tightly bound by breast-bands thus they are squeezy, and on them the upper fringe of their colourful silk wraparound is wrapped, and such busts are ornamented, and in their hairdo interposed are flowers, thus those women are delightful and it appears that they themselves are embellishing the wintry season as its ornaments...

"Nowadays the chests of lustful men are ocherish for they are rubbed against bosoms of their flirtatious women, whose busts are adorned with vermilion coloured skincare, and which young women are befitting for a comfortable close self-indulgence, for they are new to adulthood, and have warmish bosoms, and the men are sleeping while overly pressing the bosoms of their ladyloves against their own, thus the men are brazening out the chilling coldness of winter, and thus the women of age have an edge on the frostiness of this season...

"In nights the gladdened women of age, desirous of lovemaking are consuming best, heart-stealing, excitant, and stimulant hard drinks along with their lovers, in which drinks lotus petal are placed for fragrance, and which lotus petals are undulated by the richly scented lusty suspirations of those women...

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poem by Kalidasa
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