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Bengal (PALLI JANANI)
See how lovely she is, Bengal
my deep-green mother,
Her beauty overflows mountain and cave, forest and
field and the waste lonely places.
She moves like a shadow in the ricefields,
and through
the clearing of the forest.
And she plays her Vina like a hermit
at the bend of a
dusty path.
She is a vagrant roaming alone and shy,
With clat and straw and earthmould building a hamlet
in the lonely fields.
The dark-stained cloud is her watering-can to sprinkle the
waters of blessing.
Like a flower among flowers of the lotus her face gleams
from the darkness of
a pool.
She wanders wild in the forest, tiger and bear are her
playmates.
She joins in the dance of the storm, under her spell the snake
dances.
In
the rippling current of the river her bracelet of pebblestones
tinkles.
She
stands on the threshhold of twilight with the star of evening
on her brow.
She is early at the river, filling her jar with water under the dawn.
Her skirt
billows in the young green corps, the clash of her
anklets is the cricket's tune.
Her boat-song echoes in the ebbing tide, in the rustling feilds
her baul is chanted.
And sometimes by Ganges burning-ghat her breast is wet with tears.
THE FERRY
(KHEYA PARER TARANI)
Translated by Syed Sajjad Husain
The evening ferry was fully loaded
And waiting to cross when a sudden tempest
Churned up the waters in ogreish fury,
And a blast was head of Doomsday's trumpet.
The sky was rent by flashes of lightning
While thunder resounded growling in
anger.
The frightened travellers crouched in silence
As the seas rose
high and hurtled fiercely
Against the craft on which they huddled.
The sinister
shades of death descended
And mantled the earth in pitch~black darkness;
Fear seized the sinners, and hope was abandoned.
But there in the distance
I saw men riding
A boat quite different, calm and steady
'Midst the surge
and thunder of raging currents.
Oared by Abu Bakar, Omar, Osman and Ali,
It had for helmsman Ahmad the seaman
Whose seasemed hands gave assurance of safety.
The boat had on board the just and the pure-minded
Whose faith in God
was their shield and armour.
They chanted hallelujahs loudly,
Unshaken by
fear of death and perdition.
The sail on the mast proclaimed 'Salvation',
And blossoms were showered by doe-eyed houris
As the boat approached the ports
of heaven,
Away from wind and wave and tempest.
MY LOVE
(MOR PRIYA HABE ESHO RANI)
Translated by Kabir Chowdhury
Come darling and be my bye!
I shall adorn thy hair with flowers
of stars,
And thy ears with rings of the
young spring moon.
And around
thy neck shall I put a garland
White as a row of swans.
And thy cloud-coloured
dishevelled hair
I shall gather and bind
In dazzling ribbons of silvery lightning.
I shall mix sandalwood with moonlight
And with it wash thy body.
I shall
snatch the red from the rainbow.
And with it paint thy feet.
With the
seven tunes of my song
I shall build my wedding-bower.
And around thee will
sing the nightingale of my poesy.
IN THE LONELY WOOD-LAND PATH
(AKELA BANAPATHE)
Translated
by Kabir Chowdhury
Who art thou walking alone
In the lonely
woodland path?
As thou walkest flowers spring
On both sides with each step
of thine.
The fragrance of thy hair
Makes the garden sad
And the breeze
plays with thy hair
Forgetting the flowers.
The flowers fall down in
clusters
For thee to wear them in thy hair.
They make the path red with their
petals laid
For thee to tread softly on.
The pink dusk is anxious
To
paint thy feet with its red!
The creepers embrace thy feet
And do not
like to let thee go
The thorns pull at thy skirt,
And the horned nioon beckons
thee
From the sky.
MARCH FORWARD
NATUNER GAN
Translated by Syed Sajjad Husain
Hark ! the war-drums thrill above,
Heaving Earth too answer
back;
Bright's the new day breaking forth,
Forward, march.
Put
to flight the shades of night,
Sweep away the crags in front,
Pave the way
for morning's light,
Forward, march.
Breath new life where darkness
reigns,
Sing the hymn of radiant youth,
Welcome danger, welcome risk.
Forward, march.
Listen ! there the bells announce
Death's retreat,
the rout of gloom.
Fling the gateways open wide.
Forwaard, march.
Lay aside your fantasies,
Shed your thoughts of glories past,
Waste no time
on what is lost.
Forward, march.
Ancient perse and Greece and Rome--
Vanished once-- now stir anew.
Dream no more of peacock thrones.
Wake up,
march.
Pour into the limbs fresh blood,
Fashion castles out of dust,
Monuments of splendour new.
Forward, march.
COME, O GUIDE OF THE AGE
(PRARTHANA)
Translated by Kabir
Chowdhury
Come, O giude of the age,
The fearless and the bold,
Come, O the eternally beautiful,
The serene and confident,
I sing your
victory
Come, O hero.
The raised thunder.
Come, O the unconquerable,
The cruel and the arrogant,
I sing your victory.
O the healer of the
sorrows
of dumb millions,
wake up.
O the leader of the age,
I sing
your victory,
I welcome you.
Listen to the heart-rending cries over
there
Come, O the severer of fetters.
the child is awakening,
The child
is seeking light.
Come, O the rising sun,
I sing your victory,
you welcome.
I LOOK FOR HER
(AMAR APONAR CEYE APON JE JON)
Translated
by Kabir Chowdhury
I look for her
Who is closer to me than
my own self.
I seem to hear her footsteps
In my burning desire.
Like
the skylark, in unquenched thirst,
She pines for water in the parched
Sky
of mind.
Like the chakor she steals into my dream
In soft, moon-lit night.
In the green foliage of my mind
I see her as the dark benevolent cloud.
In the sharp lightning-flash I find
Her as thunder's roar aloud.
I
sit in the bower I made
And garland my beloved;
But suddenly with a start
I wake
And find it, alas, around my own neck.
ON A FAREWELL
(BIDAYE SMARANE)
Translated by Muhammad Nurul
Huda
Not a mere meeting on a walk
Not a mere roadside talk,
0 friend,
Not that at the sudden end of a wayfare
A hand just clasped a hand.
At each wink, at each novel acquintance
You registered your identity
on our hearts; hence,
Caine not as a conquerer, -- you, a confidant full,
who, with smiles, seized our heart and soul.
Never became you a king on
a royal throne,
You owned a throne in our hearts,-- you, a king there;
Hence
you're more distressed than we are
Meeting the moment of your departure.
In scores of our ailing souls
You'd continue to wake as an ache,
O the
relation, known eternal -- never fake --
We're sure to meet again,
And it's
not a mere roadside conversation.
ADORN HER
(EK DALI PHULE)
Translated by Syed Mitjibul Huq
How can I adorn her,
with one basketful of flowers?
The
sky is overcast
with a dishevelled
cloudy hair,
Oh, how can I adorn her?
Why have you oh gardener,
given me so few flowers,
that they should
disappear
before I could adorn her?
Ketaki the monsoon's bride
putting the veil aside,
behind thorny, secret,
woodland hides.
The unruly kamini withers
before I can touch her,
drunk in her own fragrance
the tipsy champa dances.
The shameless damsel tagor
looks with her big eyes,
but before she could wither
the poor bakul dies.
HOPE
(ASHA)
Translated by Syed Mujibul Huq
Perhaps we shall meet,
where the bending sky kisses
the green wilderness.
Yonder, in the village field
on the ridges or the desolate quay
perhaps you shall come smiling
and clasp my arms.
Your unveiled glances,
In that impervious blue
bring the secret message
From the southern breeze.
In the chinks of the wilderness,
Oh dear,
your gentle kisses on
my eyes
remain enshrined
in the horizon's golden hue.
IN THE ASSEMBLY OF FLOWERS
(PHULER0 JALASHAY)
Translated
by Kabir Chowdhury
Why art thou silent O poet, in the assembly
of flowers?
Why is thy face sad and tear-streaked in the morning breeze?
Let the lyre lying awake at thy feet
with tunes full to the brim in her
bosom
Scatter forth joy at thy tender touch.
Let the air and sky fill with
the
fragrance of its music.
Thy beloved bade thee farewell in the night
in wotinded pride
And in the gray morning her passion
cries out like a rose!
Forget here who will not return
And look at the one who waits at thy
door.
The sun has risen in glorious love
To make thee forget thy longing
for the setting moon.
SPRING
(NOTUN FATAR NUPUR PAYE)
Translated by Kabir Chowdhury
Who comes there with the southern breeze?
Who comes with the
new leaves,
singing and dancing?
O, who comes there dancing on her tripping
feet?
Two shinning eyes rove
from the shaded branch of a mango tree.
A wild bird calls out
from a swinging branch,
wrapping around its body
the young moon 5 tender light.
The sea heaves and the sky sparkles
as they
drink the look of her limpid eyes.
From the dark woods the music of her flute
issues forth,
and the streets fill with flaming flowers.
0, who wakes
me up from my sleep,
fanning my eyes with tender peacock plumes?
TWILIGHT
(ANDHO DHARANI ALO ANDHO ANDLIAR)
Translated by
Syed Mujibul Huq
Half of the world is dark,
the other half
has light;
it heralds the dawn of
someone's sorrowful night.
Half
is hard earth,
the other half is water;
half is full of thorn
the other
half is flower.
Half is melody,
the other half is wine;
half abounds
in hope
lonely hearts pine.
Half remains hidden,
the other
half is known;
half is full of love,
the other half disown.
Half
of it is dawn,
the other half is twilight;
half of it is dew,
and a moiety
sunlight.