Food for Your Eyes | Pokhara Rendezvous Series 2

Source: Flickr

From the hills of Bindhyabasini

A lady cleaning the Barahi temple periphery in the lake island. Fishtail in the sky with diamonds.
Riot of colors.
Cottage across the lake

Misty morning

If Wordsworth were in Pokhara, he would again write the same poem Daffodils. When a kid, I loved the poem so much that I could recite the whole poem by myself. It still is my favourite poem.

Daffodils by William Wordsworth

I wander'd lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,

They stretch'd in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:

A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:

I gazed -- and gazed -- but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.