Choices

I knew not who Uncle Moon was, Krishna, when I was a child:
His was a soothing presence refreshing by His very sight and I loved Him.
I do not want to know who you are, Krishna, or what or how much you are:
A twink grips my heart with pain, I wish not to miss seeing you for a moment

And what a prankster you are, Krishna! Is it not enough, the grief,
being away from you during the chores? What need to burn the heart
this way by playing on your flute? My emotions have dried up, mirth
there is none in anything, I just wish to be lost in your bewitching smile

Like the Sun's impish smile on a winter day only to disappear behind
gloomy clouds again, you come, you charm and then vanish, leaving us
to our fates in your joyless absence? You have no choices now, either
Withdraw this ghoulish world of yours or lift the veil in the heart