Riddles

Heera Beta comes to town
Donning gold and purple gown.

Ganda Peeda bares it all
Till the morning robin call.

Rani Beti wears her flowers
Smiling up at morning showers.

Achha Baccha always seen
Dressed in hues of every green.
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In a moment it is past,
Yet is present, don’t you see?
For as long as time may last,
Every moment it shall be.

The finest time to humbly turn
To Him unto whom all return.

Solve the one, resolve the other,
And then combine them both together,
Describing a product of ruinous weather.
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You hammer a nail in my face,
But I do not bleed when you do,
You taint me with words of disgrace,
But I do not heed words of you,
You may go no further beyond where I stand
Except through a portal proportioned and grand,
Although such a portal would often be bland.
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Two parts of HAND one part of FOX;
A space in the hand won’t kill the effects,
But you can to free what is held by the locks.  
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Although true and faithful I ever remain,
My colors I change again and again;
Berate me and hate me and slight, even spite me,
Think twice fore you fight me: a battle with time;
Your failure to sight me: unfortunate crime.

I seldom inspire a word,

The purest of heart my service employs
To make a sweet calm to descend;
But when we are parted, the innocent noise
Brings all of the sweetness to end;
A part of me sounds like it burns and destroys,
Yet all of me is a good friend
To mother and father and brother and sister,
Who on me can come to depend.

Can never be lost, not easy to share,
It fills empty spaces (and I don’t mean air),
Preceding the first, succeeding the last,
Delaying your death, returning your past;
By darkness or light, in silence it lies
Where, hidden from sight of all-seeing eyes,
Just anything might compel its demise.

There is no escape from the lair,
This slave cannot flee anywhere,
Submitting and peaceful when held in his cage,
But out, Is his spear good reason for fear,
The harder the combat, the greater his rage;
The maddening slaughter he craves, it comes faster,
The lair becomes hotter when slave becomes master.

These hairy hunchbacks huddle to keep
Warm all together as one;
The mantle they share in perpetual sleep
Is forged from a drop of the sun;
The huddle is broken with one of them woken,
And thusly their end is begun.