Poems in this topic
Emotions and Feelings
Kazi Nazrul Islam
The Run-Away
The Run-Away
O Chakravaki! What distant melodious
call of a known flute hast thou heard?
O my fugitive Bird!
What lost abode dost thou remember?
What paradise of thy dream?
O my Fugitive!
Tears flood thy unsteady eyes,
Tell, O tell me hat long-lost mother
calleth thee?
There under the shades of dusk from
the distant horizon some deep magic
spell beckoneth thee
Dost thou know who it is? O my wayward one!
Out of the fullness of heart and from the
depths of love it seems to call, Come,
Come, O Come,
Be in my lap, O my tyrant child,
O my fugitive Bird!
The south wind blowing over the forest,
Dose thy mother call thee now by raising
her hand, O Dear?
Dost thou, after all, distinguish thy kin
from one who isn't thy kin?
So, at the very peep of dawn descends
dusk on my low-roofed house!
The sheaves of paddy, or the secret call of Shyama
Dear! prey, tell me
What startled thee and made thee break thy bonds?
The eyes are overflowed with tears,
Who hath made thee drink Hemlock
. of evergreen tender love?
It seems of a sudden some young hare
startles and cries
'O Come, come, come
Come, O my dear Child,'
To the forest come back, O thou
Chakrabaki of the wood!
O Fickle Fugitive! . ,
[Translation: Abdul Hakim]
O Chakravaki! What distant melodious
call of a known flute hast thou heard?
O my fugitive Bird!
What lost abode dost thou remember?
What paradise of thy dream?
O my Fugitive!
Tears flood thy unsteady eyes,
Tell, O tell me hat long-lost mother
calleth thee?
There under the shades of dusk from
the distant horizon some deep magic
spell beckoneth thee
Dost thou know who it is? O my wayward one!
Out of the fullness of heart and from the
depths of love it seems to call, Come,
Come, O Come,
Be in my lap, O my tyrant child,
O my fugitive Bird!
The south wind blowing over the forest,
Dose thy mother call thee now by raising
her hand, O Dear?
Dost thou, after all, distinguish thy kin
from one who isn't thy kin?
So, at the very peep of dawn descends
dusk on my low-roofed house!
The sheaves of paddy, or the secret call of Shyama
Dear! prey, tell me
What startled thee and made thee break thy bonds?
The eyes are overflowed with tears,
Who hath made thee drink Hemlock
. of evergreen tender love?
It seems of a sudden some young hare
startles and cries
'O Come, come, come
Come, O my dear Child,'
To the forest come back, O thou
Chakrabaki of the wood!
O Fickle Fugitive! . ,
[Translation: Abdul Hakim]
541
Kazi Nazrul Islam
The Run-Away
The Run-Away
O Chakravaki! What distant melodious
call of a known flute hast thou heard?
O my fugitive Bird!
What lost abode dost thou remember?
What paradise of thy dream?
O my Fugitive!
Tears flood thy unsteady eyes,
Tell, O tell me hat long-lost mother
calleth thee?
There under the shades of dusk from
the distant horizon some deep magic
spell beckoneth thee
Dost thou know who it is? O my wayward one!
Out of the fullness of heart and from the
depths of love it seems to call, Come,
Come, O Come,
Be in my lap, O my tyrant child,
O my fugitive Bird!
The south wind blowing over the forest,
Dose thy mother call thee now by raising
her hand, O Dear?
Dost thou, after all, distinguish thy kin
from one who isn't thy kin?
So, at the very peep of dawn descends
dusk on my low-roofed house!
The sheaves of paddy, or the secret call of Shyama
Dear! prey, tell me
What startled thee and made thee break thy bonds?
The eyes are overflowed with tears,
Who hath made thee drink Hemlock
. of evergreen tender love?
It seems of a sudden some young hare
startles and cries
'O Come, come, come
Come, O my dear Child,'
To the forest come back, O thou
Chakrabaki of the wood!
O Fickle Fugitive! . ,
[Translation: Abdul Hakim]
O Chakravaki! What distant melodious
call of a known flute hast thou heard?
O my fugitive Bird!
What lost abode dost thou remember?
What paradise of thy dream?
O my Fugitive!
Tears flood thy unsteady eyes,
Tell, O tell me hat long-lost mother
calleth thee?
There under the shades of dusk from
the distant horizon some deep magic
spell beckoneth thee
Dost thou know who it is? O my wayward one!
Out of the fullness of heart and from the
depths of love it seems to call, Come,
Come, O Come,
Be in my lap, O my tyrant child,
O my fugitive Bird!
The south wind blowing over the forest,
Dose thy mother call thee now by raising
her hand, O Dear?
Dost thou, after all, distinguish thy kin
from one who isn't thy kin?
So, at the very peep of dawn descends
dusk on my low-roofed house!
The sheaves of paddy, or the secret call of Shyama
Dear! prey, tell me
What startled thee and made thee break thy bonds?
The eyes are overflowed with tears,
Who hath made thee drink Hemlock
. of evergreen tender love?
It seems of a sudden some young hare
startles and cries
'O Come, come, come
Come, O my dear Child,'
To the forest come back, O thou
Chakrabaki of the wood!
O Fickle Fugitive! . ,
[Translation: Abdul Hakim]
541
Kazi Nazrul Islam
The Resurgence (Islamic Lyric)
The Resurgence (Islamic Lyric)
There sounds the drum!
There on the ruined tower, dark and blank,
Flutters the once-mighty flag.
Raise your head, mussalmans,
Gird your loins and advance
The call of the New Age has come.
With the Kalma on your lips
And the sabre swinging against your hips,
With the fiery enthusiasm of Islam ill your
Shake off your lethargy and start.
With the love of Allah in your soul
Answer the call and take up your role.
There is nothing for you to dread.
You have that glorious amulet,
The Holy Quran, tied round your neck.
A pity that you overslept
And missed the Fazr prayer.
Neither did you awaken
When the Zohr did beckon.
And the Asr prayer you whiled away
In idleness and play.
The call for the Mughrib has also sounded.
You must hurry now to the Esha prayer.
Some room is still available there,
We are not really
Creatures of pomp and luxury.
Our Calipha once ru.led over half the universe
Dressed in clothes no better than beggers.
Once we only desired death
In the cause of our faith,
But now such a people as our's
Are numbed in a drunken stupor
While outside there rages a violent storm.
We had nothing but a dry piece of bread,
But we had a mighty faith and none did we dread,
A noble spirit of sacrifice we possessed.
And we moved from place to place without sleep or rest,
Always as victors great.
Let us bring back to our life
That faith and spirit of sacrifice:
Let the cry of Allah-o-Akbar
Resound in the lips of all.
Let the world tremble again
At the sound of that clarion call.
[Translation: Kabir Chowdhury]
There sounds the drum!
There on the ruined tower, dark and blank,
Flutters the once-mighty flag.
Raise your head, mussalmans,
Gird your loins and advance
The call of the New Age has come.
With the Kalma on your lips
And the sabre swinging against your hips,
With the fiery enthusiasm of Islam ill your
Shake off your lethargy and start.
With the love of Allah in your soul
Answer the call and take up your role.
There is nothing for you to dread.
You have that glorious amulet,
The Holy Quran, tied round your neck.
A pity that you overslept
And missed the Fazr prayer.
Neither did you awaken
When the Zohr did beckon.
And the Asr prayer you whiled away
In idleness and play.
The call for the Mughrib has also sounded.
You must hurry now to the Esha prayer.
Some room is still available there,
We are not really
Creatures of pomp and luxury.
Our Calipha once ru.led over half the universe
Dressed in clothes no better than beggers.
Once we only desired death
In the cause of our faith,
But now such a people as our's
Are numbed in a drunken stupor
While outside there rages a violent storm.
We had nothing but a dry piece of bread,
But we had a mighty faith and none did we dread,
A noble spirit of sacrifice we possessed.
And we moved from place to place without sleep or rest,
Always as victors great.
Let us bring back to our life
That faith and spirit of sacrifice:
Let the cry of Allah-o-Akbar
Resound in the lips of all.
Let the world tremble again
At the sound of that clarion call.
[Translation: Kabir Chowdhury]
605
Kazi Nazrul Islam
The Rebel
The Rebel
Say, Valiant,
Say: High is my head!
Looking at my head
Is cast down the great Himalayan peak!
Say, Valiant,
Say: Ripping apart the wide sky of the universe,
Leaving behind the moon, the sun, the planets
and the stars
Piercing the earth and the heavens,
Pushing through Almighty's sacred seat
Have I risen,
I, the perennial wonder of mother-earth!
The angry God shines on my forehead
Like some royal victory's gorgeous emblem.
Say, Valiant,
Ever high is my head!
I am irresponsible, cruel and arrogant,
I an the king of the great upheaval,
I am cyclone, I am destruction,
I am the great fear, the curse of the universe.
I have no mercy,
I grind all to pieces.
I am disorderly and lawless,
I trample under my feet all rules and discipline!
I am Durjati, I am the sudden tempest of ultimate summer,
I am the rebel, the rebel-son of mother-earth!
Say, Valiant,
Ever high is my head!
I am the hurricane, I am the cyclone
I destroy all that I found in the path!
I am the dance-intoxicated rhythm,
I dance at my own pleasure,
I am the unfettered joy of life!
I am Hambeer, I am Chhayanata, I am Hindole,
I am ever restless,
I caper and dance as I move!
I do whatever appeals to me, whenever I like,
I embrace the enemy and wrestle with death,
I am mad. I am the tornado!
I am pestilence, the great fear,
I am the death of all reigns of terror,
I am full of a warm restlessness for ever!
Say, Valiant,
Ever high is my head!
I am creation, I am destruction,
I am habitation, I am the grave-yard,
I am the end, the end of night!
I am the son of Indrani
With the moon in my head
And the sun on my temple
In one hand of mine is the tender flute
While in the other I hold the war bugle!
I am the Bedouin, I am the Chengis,
I salute none but me!
I am thunder,
I am Brahma's sound in the sky and on the earth,
I am the mighty roar of Israfil's bugle,
I am the great trident of Pinakpani,
I am the staff of the king of truth,
I am the Chakra and the great Shanka,
I am the mighty primordial shout!
I am Bishyamitra's pupil, Durbasha the furious,
I am the fury of the wild fire,
I burn to ashes this universe!
I am the gay laughter of the generous heart,
I am the enemy of creation, the mighty terror!
I am the eclipse of the twelve suns,
I herald the final destruction!
Sometimes I am quiet and serene,
I am in a frenzy at other times,
I am the new youth of dawn,
I crush under my feet the vain glory of the Almighty!
I am the fury of typhoon,
I am the tumultuous roar of the ocean,
I am ever effluent and bright,
I trippingly flow like the gaily warbling brook.
I am the maiden's dark glassy hair,
I am the spark of fire in her blazing eyes.
I am the tender love that lies
In the sixteen year old's heart,
I am the happy beyond measure!
I am the pining soul of the lovesick,
I am the bitter tears in the widow's heart,
i am the piteous sighs of the unlucky!
I am the pain and sorrow of all homeless sufferers,
i am the anguish of the insulted heart,
I am the burning pain and the madness of the jilted lover!
I am the unutterable grief,
I am the trembling first touch of the virgin,
I am the throbbing tenderness of her first stolen kiss.
I am the fleeting glace of the veiled beloved,
I am her constant surreptitious gaze.
I am the gay gripping young girl's love,
I am the jingling music of her bangles!
I am the eternal-child, the adolescent of all times,
I am the shy village maiden frightened by her own budding youth.
I am the soothing breeze of the south,
I am the pensive gale of the east.
I am the deep solemn song sung by the wondering bard,
I am the soft music played on his lyre!
I am the harsh unquenched mid-day thirst,
I am the fierce blazing sun,
I am the softly trilling desert spring,
I am the cool shadowy greenery!
Maddened with an intense joy I rush onward,
I am insane! I am insane!
Suddenly I have come to know myself,
All the false barriers have crumbled today!
I am the rising, I am the fall,
I am consciousness in the unconscious soul,
I am the flag of triumph at the gate of the world,
I am the glorious sign of man's victory,
Clapping my hands in exultation I rush like the hurricane,
Traversing the earth and the sky.
The mighty Borrak is the horse I ride.
It neighs impatiently, drunk with delight!
I am the burning volcano in the bosom of the earth,
I am the wild fire of the woods,
I am Hell's mad terrific sea of wrath!
I ride on the wings of the lightning with joy and profound,
I scatter misery and fear all around,
I bring earth-quakes on this world!
I am Orpheus's flute,
I bring sleep to the fevered world,
I make the heaving hells temple in fear and die.
I carry the message of revolt to the earth and the sky!
I am the mighty flood,
Sometimes I make the earth rich and fertile,
At another times I cause colossal damage.
I snatch from Bishnu's bosom the two girls!
I am injustice, I am the shooting star,
I am Saturn, I am the fire of the comet,
I am the poisonous asp!
I am Chandi the headless, I am ruinous Warlord,
Sitting in the burning pit of Hell
I smile as the innocent flower!
I am the cruel axe of Parsurama,
I shall kill warriors
And bring peace and harmony in the universe!
I am the plough on the shoulders of Balarama,
I shall uproot this miserable earth effortlessly and with ease,
And create a new universe of joy and peace.
Weary of struggles, I, the great rebel,
Shall rest in quiet only when I find
The sky and the air free of the piteous groans of the oppressed.
Only when the battle fields are cleared of jingling bloody sabres
Shall I, weary of struggles, rest in quiet,
I the great rebel.
I am the rebel eternal,
I raise my head beyond this world,
High, ever erect and alone!
[Translation: Kabir Chowdhury]
Say, Valiant,
Say: High is my head!
Looking at my head
Is cast down the great Himalayan peak!
Say, Valiant,
Say: Ripping apart the wide sky of the universe,
Leaving behind the moon, the sun, the planets
and the stars
Piercing the earth and the heavens,
Pushing through Almighty's sacred seat
Have I risen,
I, the perennial wonder of mother-earth!
The angry God shines on my forehead
Like some royal victory's gorgeous emblem.
Say, Valiant,
Ever high is my head!
I am irresponsible, cruel and arrogant,
I an the king of the great upheaval,
I am cyclone, I am destruction,
I am the great fear, the curse of the universe.
I have no mercy,
I grind all to pieces.
I am disorderly and lawless,
I trample under my feet all rules and discipline!
I am Durjati, I am the sudden tempest of ultimate summer,
I am the rebel, the rebel-son of mother-earth!
Say, Valiant,
Ever high is my head!
I am the hurricane, I am the cyclone
I destroy all that I found in the path!
I am the dance-intoxicated rhythm,
I dance at my own pleasure,
I am the unfettered joy of life!
I am Hambeer, I am Chhayanata, I am Hindole,
I am ever restless,
I caper and dance as I move!
I do whatever appeals to me, whenever I like,
I embrace the enemy and wrestle with death,
I am mad. I am the tornado!
I am pestilence, the great fear,
I am the death of all reigns of terror,
I am full of a warm restlessness for ever!
Say, Valiant,
Ever high is my head!
I am creation, I am destruction,
I am habitation, I am the grave-yard,
I am the end, the end of night!
I am the son of Indrani
With the moon in my head
And the sun on my temple
In one hand of mine is the tender flute
While in the other I hold the war bugle!
I am the Bedouin, I am the Chengis,
I salute none but me!
I am thunder,
I am Brahma's sound in the sky and on the earth,
I am the mighty roar of Israfil's bugle,
I am the great trident of Pinakpani,
I am the staff of the king of truth,
I am the Chakra and the great Shanka,
I am the mighty primordial shout!
I am Bishyamitra's pupil, Durbasha the furious,
I am the fury of the wild fire,
I burn to ashes this universe!
I am the gay laughter of the generous heart,
I am the enemy of creation, the mighty terror!
I am the eclipse of the twelve suns,
I herald the final destruction!
Sometimes I am quiet and serene,
I am in a frenzy at other times,
I am the new youth of dawn,
I crush under my feet the vain glory of the Almighty!
I am the fury of typhoon,
I am the tumultuous roar of the ocean,
I am ever effluent and bright,
I trippingly flow like the gaily warbling brook.
I am the maiden's dark glassy hair,
I am the spark of fire in her blazing eyes.
I am the tender love that lies
In the sixteen year old's heart,
I am the happy beyond measure!
I am the pining soul of the lovesick,
I am the bitter tears in the widow's heart,
i am the piteous sighs of the unlucky!
I am the pain and sorrow of all homeless sufferers,
i am the anguish of the insulted heart,
I am the burning pain and the madness of the jilted lover!
I am the unutterable grief,
I am the trembling first touch of the virgin,
I am the throbbing tenderness of her first stolen kiss.
I am the fleeting glace of the veiled beloved,
I am her constant surreptitious gaze.
I am the gay gripping young girl's love,
I am the jingling music of her bangles!
I am the eternal-child, the adolescent of all times,
I am the shy village maiden frightened by her own budding youth.
I am the soothing breeze of the south,
I am the pensive gale of the east.
I am the deep solemn song sung by the wondering bard,
I am the soft music played on his lyre!
I am the harsh unquenched mid-day thirst,
I am the fierce blazing sun,
I am the softly trilling desert spring,
I am the cool shadowy greenery!
Maddened with an intense joy I rush onward,
I am insane! I am insane!
Suddenly I have come to know myself,
All the false barriers have crumbled today!
I am the rising, I am the fall,
I am consciousness in the unconscious soul,
I am the flag of triumph at the gate of the world,
I am the glorious sign of man's victory,
Clapping my hands in exultation I rush like the hurricane,
Traversing the earth and the sky.
The mighty Borrak is the horse I ride.
It neighs impatiently, drunk with delight!
I am the burning volcano in the bosom of the earth,
I am the wild fire of the woods,
I am Hell's mad terrific sea of wrath!
I ride on the wings of the lightning with joy and profound,
I scatter misery and fear all around,
I bring earth-quakes on this world!
I am Orpheus's flute,
I bring sleep to the fevered world,
I make the heaving hells temple in fear and die.
I carry the message of revolt to the earth and the sky!
I am the mighty flood,
Sometimes I make the earth rich and fertile,
At another times I cause colossal damage.
I snatch from Bishnu's bosom the two girls!
I am injustice, I am the shooting star,
I am Saturn, I am the fire of the comet,
I am the poisonous asp!
I am Chandi the headless, I am ruinous Warlord,
Sitting in the burning pit of Hell
I smile as the innocent flower!
I am the cruel axe of Parsurama,
I shall kill warriors
And bring peace and harmony in the universe!
I am the plough on the shoulders of Balarama,
I shall uproot this miserable earth effortlessly and with ease,
And create a new universe of joy and peace.
Weary of struggles, I, the great rebel,
Shall rest in quiet only when I find
The sky and the air free of the piteous groans of the oppressed.
Only when the battle fields are cleared of jingling bloody sabres
Shall I, weary of struggles, rest in quiet,
I the great rebel.
I am the rebel eternal,
I raise my head beyond this world,
High, ever erect and alone!
[Translation: Kabir Chowdhury]
879
Kazi Nazrul Islam
The Rebel
The Rebel
Say, Valiant,
Say: High is my head!
Looking at my head
Is cast down the great Himalayan peak!
Say, Valiant,
Say: Ripping apart the wide sky of the universe,
Leaving behind the moon, the sun, the planets
and the stars
Piercing the earth and the heavens,
Pushing through Almighty's sacred seat
Have I risen,
I, the perennial wonder of mother-earth!
The angry God shines on my forehead
Like some royal victory's gorgeous emblem.
Say, Valiant,
Ever high is my head!
I am irresponsible, cruel and arrogant,
I an the king of the great upheaval,
I am cyclone, I am destruction,
I am the great fear, the curse of the universe.
I have no mercy,
I grind all to pieces.
I am disorderly and lawless,
I trample under my feet all rules and discipline!
I am Durjati, I am the sudden tempest of ultimate summer,
I am the rebel, the rebel-son of mother-earth!
Say, Valiant,
Ever high is my head!
I am the hurricane, I am the cyclone
I destroy all that I found in the path!
I am the dance-intoxicated rhythm,
I dance at my own pleasure,
I am the unfettered joy of life!
I am Hambeer, I am Chhayanata, I am Hindole,
I am ever restless,
I caper and dance as I move!
I do whatever appeals to me, whenever I like,
I embrace the enemy and wrestle with death,
I am mad. I am the tornado!
I am pestilence, the great fear,
I am the death of all reigns of terror,
I am full of a warm restlessness for ever!
Say, Valiant,
Ever high is my head!
I am creation, I am destruction,
I am habitation, I am the grave-yard,
I am the end, the end of night!
I am the son of Indrani
With the moon in my head
And the sun on my temple
In one hand of mine is the tender flute
While in the other I hold the war bugle!
I am the Bedouin, I am the Chengis,
I salute none but me!
I am thunder,
I am Brahma's sound in the sky and on the earth,
I am the mighty roar of Israfil's bugle,
I am the great trident of Pinakpani,
I am the staff of the king of truth,
I am the Chakra and the great Shanka,
I am the mighty primordial shout!
I am Bishyamitra's pupil, Durbasha the furious,
I am the fury of the wild fire,
I burn to ashes this universe!
I am the gay laughter of the generous heart,
I am the enemy of creation, the mighty terror!
I am the eclipse of the twelve suns,
I herald the final destruction!
Sometimes I am quiet and serene,
I am in a frenzy at other times,
I am the new youth of dawn,
I crush under my feet the vain glory of the Almighty!
I am the fury of typhoon,
I am the tumultuous roar of the ocean,
I am ever effluent and bright,
I trippingly flow like the gaily warbling brook.
I am the maiden's dark glassy hair,
I am the spark of fire in her blazing eyes.
I am the tender love that lies
In the sixteen year old's heart,
I am the happy beyond measure!
I am the pining soul of the lovesick,
I am the bitter tears in the widow's heart,
i am the piteous sighs of the unlucky!
I am the pain and sorrow of all homeless sufferers,
i am the anguish of the insulted heart,
I am the burning pain and the madness of the jilted lover!
I am the unutterable grief,
I am the trembling first touch of the virgin,
I am the throbbing tenderness of her first stolen kiss.
I am the fleeting glace of the veiled beloved,
I am her constant surreptitious gaze.
I am the gay gripping young girl's love,
I am the jingling music of her bangles!
I am the eternal-child, the adolescent of all times,
I am the shy village maiden frightened by her own budding youth.
I am the soothing breeze of the south,
I am the pensive gale of the east.
I am the deep solemn song sung by the wondering bard,
I am the soft music played on his lyre!
I am the harsh unquenched mid-day thirst,
I am the fierce blazing sun,
I am the softly trilling desert spring,
I am the cool shadowy greenery!
Maddened with an intense joy I rush onward,
I am insane! I am insane!
Suddenly I have come to know myself,
All the false barriers have crumbled today!
I am the rising, I am the fall,
I am consciousness in the unconscious soul,
I am the flag of triumph at the gate of the world,
I am the glorious sign of man's victory,
Clapping my hands in exultation I rush like the hurricane,
Traversing the earth and the sky.
The mighty Borrak is the horse I ride.
It neighs impatiently, drunk with delight!
I am the burning volcano in the bosom of the earth,
I am the wild fire of the woods,
I am Hell's mad terrific sea of wrath!
I ride on the wings of the lightning with joy and profound,
I scatter misery and fear all around,
I bring earth-quakes on this world!
I am Orpheus's flute,
I bring sleep to the fevered world,
I make the heaving hells temple in fear and die.
I carry the message of revolt to the earth and the sky!
I am the mighty flood,
Sometimes I make the earth rich and fertile,
At another times I cause colossal damage.
I snatch from Bishnu's bosom the two girls!
I am injustice, I am the shooting star,
I am Saturn, I am the fire of the comet,
I am the poisonous asp!
I am Chandi the headless, I am ruinous Warlord,
Sitting in the burning pit of Hell
I smile as the innocent flower!
I am the cruel axe of Parsurama,
I shall kill warriors
And bring peace and harmony in the universe!
I am the plough on the shoulders of Balarama,
I shall uproot this miserable earth effortlessly and with ease,
And create a new universe of joy and peace.
Weary of struggles, I, the great rebel,
Shall rest in quiet only when I find
The sky and the air free of the piteous groans of the oppressed.
Only when the battle fields are cleared of jingling bloody sabres
Shall I, weary of struggles, rest in quiet,
I the great rebel.
I am the rebel eternal,
I raise my head beyond this world,
High, ever erect and alone!
[Translation: Kabir Chowdhury]
Say, Valiant,
Say: High is my head!
Looking at my head
Is cast down the great Himalayan peak!
Say, Valiant,
Say: Ripping apart the wide sky of the universe,
Leaving behind the moon, the sun, the planets
and the stars
Piercing the earth and the heavens,
Pushing through Almighty's sacred seat
Have I risen,
I, the perennial wonder of mother-earth!
The angry God shines on my forehead
Like some royal victory's gorgeous emblem.
Say, Valiant,
Ever high is my head!
I am irresponsible, cruel and arrogant,
I an the king of the great upheaval,
I am cyclone, I am destruction,
I am the great fear, the curse of the universe.
I have no mercy,
I grind all to pieces.
I am disorderly and lawless,
I trample under my feet all rules and discipline!
I am Durjati, I am the sudden tempest of ultimate summer,
I am the rebel, the rebel-son of mother-earth!
Say, Valiant,
Ever high is my head!
I am the hurricane, I am the cyclone
I destroy all that I found in the path!
I am the dance-intoxicated rhythm,
I dance at my own pleasure,
I am the unfettered joy of life!
I am Hambeer, I am Chhayanata, I am Hindole,
I am ever restless,
I caper and dance as I move!
I do whatever appeals to me, whenever I like,
I embrace the enemy and wrestle with death,
I am mad. I am the tornado!
I am pestilence, the great fear,
I am the death of all reigns of terror,
I am full of a warm restlessness for ever!
Say, Valiant,
Ever high is my head!
I am creation, I am destruction,
I am habitation, I am the grave-yard,
I am the end, the end of night!
I am the son of Indrani
With the moon in my head
And the sun on my temple
In one hand of mine is the tender flute
While in the other I hold the war bugle!
I am the Bedouin, I am the Chengis,
I salute none but me!
I am thunder,
I am Brahma's sound in the sky and on the earth,
I am the mighty roar of Israfil's bugle,
I am the great trident of Pinakpani,
I am the staff of the king of truth,
I am the Chakra and the great Shanka,
I am the mighty primordial shout!
I am Bishyamitra's pupil, Durbasha the furious,
I am the fury of the wild fire,
I burn to ashes this universe!
I am the gay laughter of the generous heart,
I am the enemy of creation, the mighty terror!
I am the eclipse of the twelve suns,
I herald the final destruction!
Sometimes I am quiet and serene,
I am in a frenzy at other times,
I am the new youth of dawn,
I crush under my feet the vain glory of the Almighty!
I am the fury of typhoon,
I am the tumultuous roar of the ocean,
I am ever effluent and bright,
I trippingly flow like the gaily warbling brook.
I am the maiden's dark glassy hair,
I am the spark of fire in her blazing eyes.
I am the tender love that lies
In the sixteen year old's heart,
I am the happy beyond measure!
I am the pining soul of the lovesick,
I am the bitter tears in the widow's heart,
i am the piteous sighs of the unlucky!
I am the pain and sorrow of all homeless sufferers,
i am the anguish of the insulted heart,
I am the burning pain and the madness of the jilted lover!
I am the unutterable grief,
I am the trembling first touch of the virgin,
I am the throbbing tenderness of her first stolen kiss.
I am the fleeting glace of the veiled beloved,
I am her constant surreptitious gaze.
I am the gay gripping young girl's love,
I am the jingling music of her bangles!
I am the eternal-child, the adolescent of all times,
I am the shy village maiden frightened by her own budding youth.
I am the soothing breeze of the south,
I am the pensive gale of the east.
I am the deep solemn song sung by the wondering bard,
I am the soft music played on his lyre!
I am the harsh unquenched mid-day thirst,
I am the fierce blazing sun,
I am the softly trilling desert spring,
I am the cool shadowy greenery!
Maddened with an intense joy I rush onward,
I am insane! I am insane!
Suddenly I have come to know myself,
All the false barriers have crumbled today!
I am the rising, I am the fall,
I am consciousness in the unconscious soul,
I am the flag of triumph at the gate of the world,
I am the glorious sign of man's victory,
Clapping my hands in exultation I rush like the hurricane,
Traversing the earth and the sky.
The mighty Borrak is the horse I ride.
It neighs impatiently, drunk with delight!
I am the burning volcano in the bosom of the earth,
I am the wild fire of the woods,
I am Hell's mad terrific sea of wrath!
I ride on the wings of the lightning with joy and profound,
I scatter misery and fear all around,
I bring earth-quakes on this world!
I am Orpheus's flute,
I bring sleep to the fevered world,
I make the heaving hells temple in fear and die.
I carry the message of revolt to the earth and the sky!
I am the mighty flood,
Sometimes I make the earth rich and fertile,
At another times I cause colossal damage.
I snatch from Bishnu's bosom the two girls!
I am injustice, I am the shooting star,
I am Saturn, I am the fire of the comet,
I am the poisonous asp!
I am Chandi the headless, I am ruinous Warlord,
Sitting in the burning pit of Hell
I smile as the innocent flower!
I am the cruel axe of Parsurama,
I shall kill warriors
And bring peace and harmony in the universe!
I am the plough on the shoulders of Balarama,
I shall uproot this miserable earth effortlessly and with ease,
And create a new universe of joy and peace.
Weary of struggles, I, the great rebel,
Shall rest in quiet only when I find
The sky and the air free of the piteous groans of the oppressed.
Only when the battle fields are cleared of jingling bloody sabres
Shall I, weary of struggles, rest in quiet,
I the great rebel.
I am the rebel eternal,
I raise my head beyond this world,
High, ever erect and alone!
[Translation: Kabir Chowdhury]
879
Kazi Nazrul Islam
The Nightingale is silent
The Nightingale is silent
The bulbul bird is silent in the nargis garden
Listening to the laments of the fallen flower
In spring next to the lovers tomb young poet sobs in solace
Pensive sky is still with clouds burdened with water
Next to the barmaids glass of wine, tears of sorrow rolIs like buds
The heart broken moon stares with melancholy eyes.
[Original: Bulbuli nirob; Translation: Kashfia Billah]
The bulbul bird is silent in the nargis garden
Listening to the laments of the fallen flower
In spring next to the lovers tomb young poet sobs in solace
Pensive sky is still with clouds burdened with water
Next to the barmaids glass of wine, tears of sorrow rolIs like buds
The heart broken moon stares with melancholy eyes.
[Original: Bulbuli nirob; Translation: Kashfia Billah]
610
Kazi Nazrul Islam
The Nightingale is silent
The Nightingale is silent
The bulbul bird is silent in the nargis garden
Listening to the laments of the fallen flower
In spring next to the lovers tomb young poet sobs in solace
Pensive sky is still with clouds burdened with water
Next to the barmaids glass of wine, tears of sorrow rolIs like buds
The heart broken moon stares with melancholy eyes.
[Original: Bulbuli nirob; Translation: Kashfia Billah]
The bulbul bird is silent in the nargis garden
Listening to the laments of the fallen flower
In spring next to the lovers tomb young poet sobs in solace
Pensive sky is still with clouds burdened with water
Next to the barmaids glass of wine, tears of sorrow rolIs like buds
The heart broken moon stares with melancholy eyes.
[Original: Bulbuli nirob; Translation: Kashfia Billah]
610
Kazi Nazrul Islam
The Nightingale is silent
The Nightingale is silent
The bulbul bird is silent in the nargis garden
Listening to the laments of the fallen flower
In spring next to the lovers tomb young poet sobs in solace
Pensive sky is still with clouds burdened with water
Next to the barmaids glass of wine, tears of sorrow rolIs like buds
The heart broken moon stares with melancholy eyes.
[Original: Bulbuli nirob; Translation: Kashfia Billah]
The bulbul bird is silent in the nargis garden
Listening to the laments of the fallen flower
In spring next to the lovers tomb young poet sobs in solace
Pensive sky is still with clouds burdened with water
Next to the barmaids glass of wine, tears of sorrow rolIs like buds
The heart broken moon stares with melancholy eyes.
[Original: Bulbuli nirob; Translation: Kashfia Billah]
610
Kazi Nazrul Islam
The More I Take Muhammad's Name
The More I Take Muhammad's Name
The more I take Muhammad's name
The sweeter it seems to me.
Who knew before that in this name
So much of honey could be!
For the honey of this very name,
The bee of my mind doth hum and flirt
And for the love of this very name,
I have lost my hunger and thirst!
Dearest to me is this name,
Which, like Majnun, I take:
And the nightingale sings
In the rose-bower of my soul
For this name's sake!
For this very name I roam
And wend my way in life:
For this very name I do discard
Even the kingly throne!
May this name, a God! This blessed name
My mind perpetually pervade!
The more I take Muhammad's name
The sweeter it seems to me.
Who knew before that in this name
So much of honey could be!
For the honey of this very name,
The bee of my mind doth hum and flirt
And for the love of this very name,
I have lost my hunger and thirst!
Dearest to me is this name,
Which, like Majnun, I take:
And the nightingale sings
In the rose-bower of my soul
For this name's sake!
For this very name I roam
And wend my way in life:
For this very name I do discard
Even the kingly throne!
May this name, a God! This blessed name
My mind perpetually pervade!
543
Kazi Nazrul Islam
The More I Take Muhammad's Name
The More I Take Muhammad's Name
The more I take Muhammad's name
The sweeter it seems to me.
Who knew before that in this name
So much of honey could be!
For the honey of this very name,
The bee of my mind doth hum and flirt
And for the love of this very name,
I have lost my hunger and thirst!
Dearest to me is this name,
Which, like Majnun, I take:
And the nightingale sings
In the rose-bower of my soul
For this name's sake!
For this very name I roam
And wend my way in life:
For this very name I do discard
Even the kingly throne!
May this name, a God! This blessed name
My mind perpetually pervade!
The more I take Muhammad's name
The sweeter it seems to me.
Who knew before that in this name
So much of honey could be!
For the honey of this very name,
The bee of my mind doth hum and flirt
And for the love of this very name,
I have lost my hunger and thirst!
Dearest to me is this name,
Which, like Majnun, I take:
And the nightingale sings
In the rose-bower of my soul
For this name's sake!
For this very name I roam
And wend my way in life:
For this very name I do discard
Even the kingly throne!
May this name, a God! This blessed name
My mind perpetually pervade!
543
Kazi Nazrul Islam
The Month of Poush
The Month of Poush
Lo! Winter comes!
She comes across an ocean of sorrow and tears.
Beware! Beware!
She comes from behind the horizon enveloped
in thick mist.
With her advent, alas! in the Ieafy forest
A farewell dirge seems to go round
The parting Day (Ah me!) casts a sad look
Losing as she does-the Evening Star that
lights her path.
See! Winter sets in -
She represents the sadness of the year's
journey, a loss of Eternity,
The farewell season of ripe paddy,
the dread of new arrival-
Beware! Beware! She is come! -
Dry breath, and Oh! the choked voice
of a farewell deeply laden with tears -
Arise, wayfarer! Thou hast to cover
a long distance casting a sad look
from thy black eyes.
[Translation: Abdul Hakim]
Lo! Winter comes!
She comes across an ocean of sorrow and tears.
Beware! Beware!
She comes from behind the horizon enveloped
in thick mist.
With her advent, alas! in the Ieafy forest
A farewell dirge seems to go round
The parting Day (Ah me!) casts a sad look
Losing as she does-the Evening Star that
lights her path.
See! Winter sets in -
She represents the sadness of the year's
journey, a loss of Eternity,
The farewell season of ripe paddy,
the dread of new arrival-
Beware! Beware! She is come! -
Dry breath, and Oh! the choked voice
of a farewell deeply laden with tears -
Arise, wayfarer! Thou hast to cover
a long distance casting a sad look
from thy black eyes.
[Translation: Abdul Hakim]
563
Kazi Nazrul Islam
The Month of Poush
The Month of Poush
Lo! Winter comes!
She comes across an ocean of sorrow and tears.
Beware! Beware!
She comes from behind the horizon enveloped
in thick mist.
With her advent, alas! in the Ieafy forest
A farewell dirge seems to go round
The parting Day (Ah me!) casts a sad look
Losing as she does-the Evening Star that
lights her path.
See! Winter sets in -
She represents the sadness of the year's
journey, a loss of Eternity,
The farewell season of ripe paddy,
the dread of new arrival-
Beware! Beware! She is come! -
Dry breath, and Oh! the choked voice
of a farewell deeply laden with tears -
Arise, wayfarer! Thou hast to cover
a long distance casting a sad look
from thy black eyes.
[Translation: Abdul Hakim]
Lo! Winter comes!
She comes across an ocean of sorrow and tears.
Beware! Beware!
She comes from behind the horizon enveloped
in thick mist.
With her advent, alas! in the Ieafy forest
A farewell dirge seems to go round
The parting Day (Ah me!) casts a sad look
Losing as she does-the Evening Star that
lights her path.
See! Winter sets in -
She represents the sadness of the year's
journey, a loss of Eternity,
The farewell season of ripe paddy,
the dread of new arrival-
Beware! Beware! She is come! -
Dry breath, and Oh! the choked voice
of a farewell deeply laden with tears -
Arise, wayfarer! Thou hast to cover
a long distance casting a sad look
from thy black eyes.
[Translation: Abdul Hakim]
563
Kazi Nazrul Islam
The First Bud of Love
The First Bud of Love
The first bud of love withers away at the first moment of meeting;
He did not heed her pleas, but flew into the deep woods.
The spring air blooms all flowers,
Alas! my flower wilts away;
Every home lights up, but my lamp flickers away at twilight
Garland of wild flowers cry out around my neck,
I sob in solace rolling in the dusty road like torn ivy.
With intolerable thirst at the mouth of the sea
Fall down on the sandy breast of the shore
Taking me for a smoky cloud, the bird ignores me
I scathe from the fire of your absence.
[Original: Prothom Moner Koli; Translation: Kashfia Billah]
The first bud of love withers away at the first moment of meeting;
He did not heed her pleas, but flew into the deep woods.
The spring air blooms all flowers,
Alas! my flower wilts away;
Every home lights up, but my lamp flickers away at twilight
Garland of wild flowers cry out around my neck,
I sob in solace rolling in the dusty road like torn ivy.
With intolerable thirst at the mouth of the sea
Fall down on the sandy breast of the shore
Taking me for a smoky cloud, the bird ignores me
I scathe from the fire of your absence.
[Original: Prothom Moner Koli; Translation: Kashfia Billah]
554
Kazi Nazrul Islam
The First Bud of Love
The First Bud of Love
The first bud of love withers away at the first moment of meeting;
He did not heed her pleas, but flew into the deep woods.
The spring air blooms all flowers,
Alas! my flower wilts away;
Every home lights up, but my lamp flickers away at twilight
Garland of wild flowers cry out around my neck,
I sob in solace rolling in the dusty road like torn ivy.
With intolerable thirst at the mouth of the sea
Fall down on the sandy breast of the shore
Taking me for a smoky cloud, the bird ignores me
I scathe from the fire of your absence.
[Original: Prothom Moner Koli; Translation: Kashfia Billah]
The first bud of love withers away at the first moment of meeting;
He did not heed her pleas, but flew into the deep woods.
The spring air blooms all flowers,
Alas! my flower wilts away;
Every home lights up, but my lamp flickers away at twilight
Garland of wild flowers cry out around my neck,
I sob in solace rolling in the dusty road like torn ivy.
With intolerable thirst at the mouth of the sea
Fall down on the sandy breast of the shore
Taking me for a smoky cloud, the bird ignores me
I scathe from the fire of your absence.
[Original: Prothom Moner Koli; Translation: Kashfia Billah]
554
Kazi Nazrul Islam
The Eons in Waiting
The Eons in Waiting
Eons go by awaiting in hope's path
Like a desert traveler with no oasis in sight
Years Come and go quenching my thirst with tear drops
Burning the elusive lamp with hopeless mirages
The desert cactus beckons in million melodies.
This desert was a tumultuous sea one time
In my dreams I can still envision, but alas a wandering traveler.
On that sea shore the ship that drowned
Still searching in vain the shipmate rowing along the desert path.
[Original: Jonom Jonom Gelo; Translation: Kashfia Billah]
Eons go by awaiting in hope's path
Like a desert traveler with no oasis in sight
Years Come and go quenching my thirst with tear drops
Burning the elusive lamp with hopeless mirages
The desert cactus beckons in million melodies.
This desert was a tumultuous sea one time
In my dreams I can still envision, but alas a wandering traveler.
On that sea shore the ship that drowned
Still searching in vain the shipmate rowing along the desert path.
[Original: Jonom Jonom Gelo; Translation: Kashfia Billah]
471
Kazi Nazrul Islam
The Eons in Waiting
The Eons in Waiting
Eons go by awaiting in hope's path
Like a desert traveler with no oasis in sight
Years Come and go quenching my thirst with tear drops
Burning the elusive lamp with hopeless mirages
The desert cactus beckons in million melodies.
This desert was a tumultuous sea one time
In my dreams I can still envision, but alas a wandering traveler.
On that sea shore the ship that drowned
Still searching in vain the shipmate rowing along the desert path.
[Original: Jonom Jonom Gelo; Translation: Kashfia Billah]
Eons go by awaiting in hope's path
Like a desert traveler with no oasis in sight
Years Come and go quenching my thirst with tear drops
Burning the elusive lamp with hopeless mirages
The desert cactus beckons in million melodies.
This desert was a tumultuous sea one time
In my dreams I can still envision, but alas a wandering traveler.
On that sea shore the ship that drowned
Still searching in vain the shipmate rowing along the desert path.
[Original: Jonom Jonom Gelo; Translation: Kashfia Billah]
471
Kazi Nazrul Islam
The Destitutes
The Destitutes
Encircled by the water-waves of suffering the
shoal of quicksand,
O insane! Who built a shack there
with your precious hand?
Lightening reveals a new attitude,
Leave this neighborhood, O destitute!
The flowing tear of motherly cloud
is raining over your head; and
The land over there is calling you,
waving its plants and trees' band.
Your daughters are flood-slaughtered weeping
bitterly,
They are being invited today
by the ocean, motherly.
O boatman! O boatman!
Lift your sail - delay? - no more you can,
Your ride is like a stormy fan,
swinging on the waves of sea.
O boatman! Why more delay?
Lift your anchor, let it be free.
Here in the broken life's span,
your time is almost gone!
Look, your gazelle, O boatman,
eyes at the shore for a new dawn.
Your friends have already begun the voyage,
as the night sets its dark stage,
mat-bound your shoulder's edge,
Don't, any more, live in yawn!
To give up the tie of this bondage,
how much more you need to be overdrawn?
Diamond or jewels, you didn't seek;
Millionaire's rich you didn't cherish;
Your want is of a miserable meek
That's as small as a potter's dish.
You sought to sleep in peace,
And, a small mat, even if torn, apiece,
A lamp offering light's kiss,
A small shack with a door, is what you wish!
Enough of death's hanging shadow, or illness' hiss,
No more burglars stealing your fish.
O boatman, sail your boat now
toward land, ashore.
From the hard soil
let your soft feet be bloodied, like never before!
You will roam around as a storm;
You will traverse through places of soft or rugged form;
Approaching rains, like dance they perform,
as they swirl from the Indus river's floor.
Come on, the riders of water now
to the land that invites you to its door.
[Original: Sharbohara (Bengali) , Translation by: Mohammad Omar Farooq]
Encircled by the water-waves of suffering the
shoal of quicksand,
O insane! Who built a shack there
with your precious hand?
Lightening reveals a new attitude,
Leave this neighborhood, O destitute!
The flowing tear of motherly cloud
is raining over your head; and
The land over there is calling you,
waving its plants and trees' band.
Your daughters are flood-slaughtered weeping
bitterly,
They are being invited today
by the ocean, motherly.
O boatman! O boatman!
Lift your sail - delay? - no more you can,
Your ride is like a stormy fan,
swinging on the waves of sea.
O boatman! Why more delay?
Lift your anchor, let it be free.
Here in the broken life's span,
your time is almost gone!
Look, your gazelle, O boatman,
eyes at the shore for a new dawn.
Your friends have already begun the voyage,
as the night sets its dark stage,
mat-bound your shoulder's edge,
Don't, any more, live in yawn!
To give up the tie of this bondage,
how much more you need to be overdrawn?
Diamond or jewels, you didn't seek;
Millionaire's rich you didn't cherish;
Your want is of a miserable meek
That's as small as a potter's dish.
You sought to sleep in peace,
And, a small mat, even if torn, apiece,
A lamp offering light's kiss,
A small shack with a door, is what you wish!
Enough of death's hanging shadow, or illness' hiss,
No more burglars stealing your fish.
O boatman, sail your boat now
toward land, ashore.
From the hard soil
let your soft feet be bloodied, like never before!
You will roam around as a storm;
You will traverse through places of soft or rugged form;
Approaching rains, like dance they perform,
as they swirl from the Indus river's floor.
Come on, the riders of water now
to the land that invites you to its door.
[Original: Sharbohara (Bengali) , Translation by: Mohammad Omar Farooq]
562
Kazi Nazrul Islam
The Destitutes
The Destitutes
Encircled by the water-waves of suffering the
shoal of quicksand,
O insane! Who built a shack there
with your precious hand?
Lightening reveals a new attitude,
Leave this neighborhood, O destitute!
The flowing tear of motherly cloud
is raining over your head; and
The land over there is calling you,
waving its plants and trees' band.
Your daughters are flood-slaughtered weeping
bitterly,
They are being invited today
by the ocean, motherly.
O boatman! O boatman!
Lift your sail - delay? - no more you can,
Your ride is like a stormy fan,
swinging on the waves of sea.
O boatman! Why more delay?
Lift your anchor, let it be free.
Here in the broken life's span,
your time is almost gone!
Look, your gazelle, O boatman,
eyes at the shore for a new dawn.
Your friends have already begun the voyage,
as the night sets its dark stage,
mat-bound your shoulder's edge,
Don't, any more, live in yawn!
To give up the tie of this bondage,
how much more you need to be overdrawn?
Diamond or jewels, you didn't seek;
Millionaire's rich you didn't cherish;
Your want is of a miserable meek
That's as small as a potter's dish.
You sought to sleep in peace,
And, a small mat, even if torn, apiece,
A lamp offering light's kiss,
A small shack with a door, is what you wish!
Enough of death's hanging shadow, or illness' hiss,
No more burglars stealing your fish.
O boatman, sail your boat now
toward land, ashore.
From the hard soil
let your soft feet be bloodied, like never before!
You will roam around as a storm;
You will traverse through places of soft or rugged form;
Approaching rains, like dance they perform,
as they swirl from the Indus river's floor.
Come on, the riders of water now
to the land that invites you to its door.
[Original: Sharbohara (Bengali) , Translation by: Mohammad Omar Farooq]
Encircled by the water-waves of suffering the
shoal of quicksand,
O insane! Who built a shack there
with your precious hand?
Lightening reveals a new attitude,
Leave this neighborhood, O destitute!
The flowing tear of motherly cloud
is raining over your head; and
The land over there is calling you,
waving its plants and trees' band.
Your daughters are flood-slaughtered weeping
bitterly,
They are being invited today
by the ocean, motherly.
O boatman! O boatman!
Lift your sail - delay? - no more you can,
Your ride is like a stormy fan,
swinging on the waves of sea.
O boatman! Why more delay?
Lift your anchor, let it be free.
Here in the broken life's span,
your time is almost gone!
Look, your gazelle, O boatman,
eyes at the shore for a new dawn.
Your friends have already begun the voyage,
as the night sets its dark stage,
mat-bound your shoulder's edge,
Don't, any more, live in yawn!
To give up the tie of this bondage,
how much more you need to be overdrawn?
Diamond or jewels, you didn't seek;
Millionaire's rich you didn't cherish;
Your want is of a miserable meek
That's as small as a potter's dish.
You sought to sleep in peace,
And, a small mat, even if torn, apiece,
A lamp offering light's kiss,
A small shack with a door, is what you wish!
Enough of death's hanging shadow, or illness' hiss,
No more burglars stealing your fish.
O boatman, sail your boat now
toward land, ashore.
From the hard soil
let your soft feet be bloodied, like never before!
You will roam around as a storm;
You will traverse through places of soft or rugged form;
Approaching rains, like dance they perform,
as they swirl from the Indus river's floor.
Come on, the riders of water now
to the land that invites you to its door.
[Original: Sharbohara (Bengali) , Translation by: Mohammad Omar Farooq]
562
Kazi Nazrul Islam
The Ecstasy of Destruction
The Ecstasy of Destruction
Come, make merry and rejoice.
There rages the summer storm
flying the flag of the New and the Young,
There comes he who had not come so long;
Dancing merrily
drink we will the joy of destruction.
There comes the Terrible
like the fierce executioner of eternal time
across the dark well of death
through smouldering smoke
lighting the torch of thunder.
There, listen to his ringing laughter.
Come, make merry and rejoice!
The wavy locks of his hair
make the sky rock and swing.
Even the ominous comet is at his service.
His blood, like an unsheathed sword,
rocks the bosom of the father of the universe.
Look, this wild tumultuous tunnoil
has made the sky and the earth still and numb
Come, make merry and rejoice.
A dozen suns glitter and shine in his burning eyes
And the sorrows of the world cluster in his
tangled and disheveled hair.
A single dropp of his tear
makes the seven seas roll and swell.
In his giant arms he crakles the mother-earth
and cries out, 'Welcome, Destruction! '
Come, comrades, make merry and rejoice, '
Oh, have no fear!
The deluge will soon overtake the universe.
The final hour is fast drawing near.
The rotting old and the dying decrepit
will now be wiped out for good.
Now at last at the end of the long night of darkness
The glorious dawn will come with a smile
in her soft and tender dress.
Look, there the young moon shines in his unkempt hair.
Its light will fill your room
and make it glow with a strange radiance,
Come, make merry and rejoice!
There he comes flashing his whip of blood and lightning,
directing the passage of eternity.
The neighing of his horse reverberates in the stormy wind
and in the song of thunder.
The blast of his hoofs hits the stars
and scatters them shooting
through the columns of the blue-domed sky.
The gods are all lying in the dead well
of a dark dungeon.
They are tied to the cold stony pillar
of the sacriticial altar.
Indeed this is the time for him
to come triumphantly riding his gorgeous chariot.
O comrades, come, make merry and rejoice!
Why should the sight of destruction frighten you?
All this upheaval is but the birth pain
of a new creation.
There comes the bold new youth
eager to wipe out all that is ugly and decayed.
He comes with' his unkempt hair and careless dress
on the wings of the Deluge
with a smile on his lips.
He is the eternal beauty
who knows how to destroy and build again,
Come, make merry and rejoice!
What fear has he
for whom all this destruction and rebuilding
is but a game?
Come, make merry and rejoice,
and welcome the Beautiful
who comes today in the garb of the Terrible.
[Translation: Kabir Chowdhury]
Come, make merry and rejoice.
There rages the summer storm
flying the flag of the New and the Young,
There comes he who had not come so long;
Dancing merrily
drink we will the joy of destruction.
There comes the Terrible
like the fierce executioner of eternal time
across the dark well of death
through smouldering smoke
lighting the torch of thunder.
There, listen to his ringing laughter.
Come, make merry and rejoice!
The wavy locks of his hair
make the sky rock and swing.
Even the ominous comet is at his service.
His blood, like an unsheathed sword,
rocks the bosom of the father of the universe.
Look, this wild tumultuous tunnoil
has made the sky and the earth still and numb
Come, make merry and rejoice.
A dozen suns glitter and shine in his burning eyes
And the sorrows of the world cluster in his
tangled and disheveled hair.
A single dropp of his tear
makes the seven seas roll and swell.
In his giant arms he crakles the mother-earth
and cries out, 'Welcome, Destruction! '
Come, comrades, make merry and rejoice, '
Oh, have no fear!
The deluge will soon overtake the universe.
The final hour is fast drawing near.
The rotting old and the dying decrepit
will now be wiped out for good.
Now at last at the end of the long night of darkness
The glorious dawn will come with a smile
in her soft and tender dress.
Look, there the young moon shines in his unkempt hair.
Its light will fill your room
and make it glow with a strange radiance,
Come, make merry and rejoice!
There he comes flashing his whip of blood and lightning,
directing the passage of eternity.
The neighing of his horse reverberates in the stormy wind
and in the song of thunder.
The blast of his hoofs hits the stars
and scatters them shooting
through the columns of the blue-domed sky.
The gods are all lying in the dead well
of a dark dungeon.
They are tied to the cold stony pillar
of the sacriticial altar.
Indeed this is the time for him
to come triumphantly riding his gorgeous chariot.
O comrades, come, make merry and rejoice!
Why should the sight of destruction frighten you?
All this upheaval is but the birth pain
of a new creation.
There comes the bold new youth
eager to wipe out all that is ugly and decayed.
He comes with' his unkempt hair and careless dress
on the wings of the Deluge
with a smile on his lips.
He is the eternal beauty
who knows how to destroy and build again,
Come, make merry and rejoice!
What fear has he
for whom all this destruction and rebuilding
is but a game?
Come, make merry and rejoice,
and welcome the Beautiful
who comes today in the garb of the Terrible.
[Translation: Kabir Chowdhury]
581
Kazi Nazrul Islam
The Curse
The Curse
When I shall be no more
You will suffer, I promise,
Cursed, friendless and alone.
Then you will ask the evening star about me,
And with my picture engrave, fin your heart
Will roam through forests and seas
And around hills and dales,
Weeping many a desolate tear.
Then you will realise, my dear,
Then you will search for me desperately
Far and near.
When your soul will tremble
At some one's familiar touch,
And your heart will gladden
Imagining my presence by your bed,
You will suddenly wake up with a start
From your sleep,
And discover with a freezing heart
That it was nothing but an empty dream.
With eager arms spread
You will advance to embrace,
But there will be no trace of me.
Instead, you will meet
An emptiness, dull and dreary.
In anguish you will close your eyes,
Then my darling will you realise.
Trying to sing
You will find your voice choked with tears.
And, all around, people will whisper
About the song, taught by that stranger,
And then you will remember me,
And the fond caresses I bestowed on you.
Thinking of those nights
Your hard and glittering eyes
Will overflow with brimming tears
Then will you regret your past deceptions,
Then will you realise the pang of separation.
When your garden will grow fragrant
With daisies, jasmine and ivy bowers
You will suddenly think of my grave
Covered with snow-white flowers,
And your fingers, busy in making a garland
Will suddenly grow1hesitant and numb.
Your smiling face will turn pale and wan,
And tears will swim in your eyes,
Then, my dear, will you realise.
Autumn wind will come again,
And the lovely dewy nights will reappear
All, all will remain
Save this traveller, bound for the eternal night.
Friends will gather by your side.
And the love will take you in his arms,
But suddenly his touch
Will bring to your mind
The touch of another one.
Turning the joyous moment poisonous and bitter.
That is my cruse for you, sweetheart dear.
Winter nights will come again
But I will return no more.
Yet you will remember the time
When resting your head on my loving arm
You quietly slept, with only contempt in your heart.
The memory of those days
Will make your bed one of singing thorns,
I forecast.
The tide will come in the river again.
Again the boat will float en a pleasure cruise
With gay and loving company.
And yet, the memory of other voyages,
Of a boat speeding by the dark coast,
And of me sitting close beside
Will haunt you like a ghost relentlessly.
Then will Your tears mingle with your sighs,
Then you will realise..
When Your friend will be imprisoned like me
You will shed bitter tears,
When he will treat You negligently
Your happiness will lie in ruins
Then will You find Your days
Cheerless, dreary and lying.
Then will you realise, how very wrong
You were about me.
The rises will blossom again
Again the stars will shine,
And the pale moon reign in the sky:
Season will follow season in regular order,.
But for you
There will be no pleasure.
You will only cry and bewail your lost treasure.
The storm will come,
All tornado will appear,
All ties will break asunder.
And your tiny cottage will tremble in fear.
Then you will remember him
Who will not be by your side.
And you will hanker for his caresses, my dear.
At that hour will you realise.
At that hour will you regret your profuse lies.
The wound in my bosom
That once hurt you so..
Would perhaps appear sweet to. you now.
Tired and weary and forlorn at last
You might now seek it yourself,
And then shall I reappear.
And who knows
You will probably throw yourself
In my arms in a pleasant swoon
And worship me in humility.
Then will you know, my dear,
Then will the final truth be simple and clear.
[Translation: Kabir Chowdhury]
When I shall be no more
You will suffer, I promise,
Cursed, friendless and alone.
Then you will ask the evening star about me,
And with my picture engrave, fin your heart
Will roam through forests and seas
And around hills and dales,
Weeping many a desolate tear.
Then you will realise, my dear,
Then you will search for me desperately
Far and near.
When your soul will tremble
At some one's familiar touch,
And your heart will gladden
Imagining my presence by your bed,
You will suddenly wake up with a start
From your sleep,
And discover with a freezing heart
That it was nothing but an empty dream.
With eager arms spread
You will advance to embrace,
But there will be no trace of me.
Instead, you will meet
An emptiness, dull and dreary.
In anguish you will close your eyes,
Then my darling will you realise.
Trying to sing
You will find your voice choked with tears.
And, all around, people will whisper
About the song, taught by that stranger,
And then you will remember me,
And the fond caresses I bestowed on you.
Thinking of those nights
Your hard and glittering eyes
Will overflow with brimming tears
Then will you regret your past deceptions,
Then will you realise the pang of separation.
When your garden will grow fragrant
With daisies, jasmine and ivy bowers
You will suddenly think of my grave
Covered with snow-white flowers,
And your fingers, busy in making a garland
Will suddenly grow1hesitant and numb.
Your smiling face will turn pale and wan,
And tears will swim in your eyes,
Then, my dear, will you realise.
Autumn wind will come again,
And the lovely dewy nights will reappear
All, all will remain
Save this traveller, bound for the eternal night.
Friends will gather by your side.
And the love will take you in his arms,
But suddenly his touch
Will bring to your mind
The touch of another one.
Turning the joyous moment poisonous and bitter.
That is my cruse for you, sweetheart dear.
Winter nights will come again
But I will return no more.
Yet you will remember the time
When resting your head on my loving arm
You quietly slept, with only contempt in your heart.
The memory of those days
Will make your bed one of singing thorns,
I forecast.
The tide will come in the river again.
Again the boat will float en a pleasure cruise
With gay and loving company.
And yet, the memory of other voyages,
Of a boat speeding by the dark coast,
And of me sitting close beside
Will haunt you like a ghost relentlessly.
Then will Your tears mingle with your sighs,
Then you will realise..
When Your friend will be imprisoned like me
You will shed bitter tears,
When he will treat You negligently
Your happiness will lie in ruins
Then will You find Your days
Cheerless, dreary and lying.
Then will you realise, how very wrong
You were about me.
The rises will blossom again
Again the stars will shine,
And the pale moon reign in the sky:
Season will follow season in regular order,.
But for you
There will be no pleasure.
You will only cry and bewail your lost treasure.
The storm will come,
All tornado will appear,
All ties will break asunder.
And your tiny cottage will tremble in fear.
Then you will remember him
Who will not be by your side.
And you will hanker for his caresses, my dear.
At that hour will you realise.
At that hour will you regret your profuse lies.
The wound in my bosom
That once hurt you so..
Would perhaps appear sweet to. you now.
Tired and weary and forlorn at last
You might now seek it yourself,
And then shall I reappear.
And who knows
You will probably throw yourself
In my arms in a pleasant swoon
And worship me in humility.
Then will you know, my dear,
Then will the final truth be simple and clear.
[Translation: Kabir Chowdhury]
696
Kazi Nazrul Islam
The Curse
The Curse
When I shall be no more
You will suffer, I promise,
Cursed, friendless and alone.
Then you will ask the evening star about me,
And with my picture engrave, fin your heart
Will roam through forests and seas
And around hills and dales,
Weeping many a desolate tear.
Then you will realise, my dear,
Then you will search for me desperately
Far and near.
When your soul will tremble
At some one's familiar touch,
And your heart will gladden
Imagining my presence by your bed,
You will suddenly wake up with a start
From your sleep,
And discover with a freezing heart
That it was nothing but an empty dream.
With eager arms spread
You will advance to embrace,
But there will be no trace of me.
Instead, you will meet
An emptiness, dull and dreary.
In anguish you will close your eyes,
Then my darling will you realise.
Trying to sing
You will find your voice choked with tears.
And, all around, people will whisper
About the song, taught by that stranger,
And then you will remember me,
And the fond caresses I bestowed on you.
Thinking of those nights
Your hard and glittering eyes
Will overflow with brimming tears
Then will you regret your past deceptions,
Then will you realise the pang of separation.
When your garden will grow fragrant
With daisies, jasmine and ivy bowers
You will suddenly think of my grave
Covered with snow-white flowers,
And your fingers, busy in making a garland
Will suddenly grow1hesitant and numb.
Your smiling face will turn pale and wan,
And tears will swim in your eyes,
Then, my dear, will you realise.
Autumn wind will come again,
And the lovely dewy nights will reappear
All, all will remain
Save this traveller, bound for the eternal night.
Friends will gather by your side.
And the love will take you in his arms,
But suddenly his touch
Will bring to your mind
The touch of another one.
Turning the joyous moment poisonous and bitter.
That is my cruse for you, sweetheart dear.
Winter nights will come again
But I will return no more.
Yet you will remember the time
When resting your head on my loving arm
You quietly slept, with only contempt in your heart.
The memory of those days
Will make your bed one of singing thorns,
I forecast.
The tide will come in the river again.
Again the boat will float en a pleasure cruise
With gay and loving company.
And yet, the memory of other voyages,
Of a boat speeding by the dark coast,
And of me sitting close beside
Will haunt you like a ghost relentlessly.
Then will Your tears mingle with your sighs,
Then you will realise..
When Your friend will be imprisoned like me
You will shed bitter tears,
When he will treat You negligently
Your happiness will lie in ruins
Then will You find Your days
Cheerless, dreary and lying.
Then will you realise, how very wrong
You were about me.
The rises will blossom again
Again the stars will shine,
And the pale moon reign in the sky:
Season will follow season in regular order,.
But for you
There will be no pleasure.
You will only cry and bewail your lost treasure.
The storm will come,
All tornado will appear,
All ties will break asunder.
And your tiny cottage will tremble in fear.
Then you will remember him
Who will not be by your side.
And you will hanker for his caresses, my dear.
At that hour will you realise.
At that hour will you regret your profuse lies.
The wound in my bosom
That once hurt you so..
Would perhaps appear sweet to. you now.
Tired and weary and forlorn at last
You might now seek it yourself,
And then shall I reappear.
And who knows
You will probably throw yourself
In my arms in a pleasant swoon
And worship me in humility.
Then will you know, my dear,
Then will the final truth be simple and clear.
[Translation: Kabir Chowdhury]
When I shall be no more
You will suffer, I promise,
Cursed, friendless and alone.
Then you will ask the evening star about me,
And with my picture engrave, fin your heart
Will roam through forests and seas
And around hills and dales,
Weeping many a desolate tear.
Then you will realise, my dear,
Then you will search for me desperately
Far and near.
When your soul will tremble
At some one's familiar touch,
And your heart will gladden
Imagining my presence by your bed,
You will suddenly wake up with a start
From your sleep,
And discover with a freezing heart
That it was nothing but an empty dream.
With eager arms spread
You will advance to embrace,
But there will be no trace of me.
Instead, you will meet
An emptiness, dull and dreary.
In anguish you will close your eyes,
Then my darling will you realise.
Trying to sing
You will find your voice choked with tears.
And, all around, people will whisper
About the song, taught by that stranger,
And then you will remember me,
And the fond caresses I bestowed on you.
Thinking of those nights
Your hard and glittering eyes
Will overflow with brimming tears
Then will you regret your past deceptions,
Then will you realise the pang of separation.
When your garden will grow fragrant
With daisies, jasmine and ivy bowers
You will suddenly think of my grave
Covered with snow-white flowers,
And your fingers, busy in making a garland
Will suddenly grow1hesitant and numb.
Your smiling face will turn pale and wan,
And tears will swim in your eyes,
Then, my dear, will you realise.
Autumn wind will come again,
And the lovely dewy nights will reappear
All, all will remain
Save this traveller, bound for the eternal night.
Friends will gather by your side.
And the love will take you in his arms,
But suddenly his touch
Will bring to your mind
The touch of another one.
Turning the joyous moment poisonous and bitter.
That is my cruse for you, sweetheart dear.
Winter nights will come again
But I will return no more.
Yet you will remember the time
When resting your head on my loving arm
You quietly slept, with only contempt in your heart.
The memory of those days
Will make your bed one of singing thorns,
I forecast.
The tide will come in the river again.
Again the boat will float en a pleasure cruise
With gay and loving company.
And yet, the memory of other voyages,
Of a boat speeding by the dark coast,
And of me sitting close beside
Will haunt you like a ghost relentlessly.
Then will Your tears mingle with your sighs,
Then you will realise..
When Your friend will be imprisoned like me
You will shed bitter tears,
When he will treat You negligently
Your happiness will lie in ruins
Then will You find Your days
Cheerless, dreary and lying.
Then will you realise, how very wrong
You were about me.
The rises will blossom again
Again the stars will shine,
And the pale moon reign in the sky:
Season will follow season in regular order,.
But for you
There will be no pleasure.
You will only cry and bewail your lost treasure.
The storm will come,
All tornado will appear,
All ties will break asunder.
And your tiny cottage will tremble in fear.
Then you will remember him
Who will not be by your side.
And you will hanker for his caresses, my dear.
At that hour will you realise.
At that hour will you regret your profuse lies.
The wound in my bosom
That once hurt you so..
Would perhaps appear sweet to. you now.
Tired and weary and forlorn at last
You might now seek it yourself,
And then shall I reappear.
And who knows
You will probably throw yourself
In my arms in a pleasant swoon
And worship me in humility.
Then will you know, my dear,
Then will the final truth be simple and clear.
[Translation: Kabir Chowdhury]
696
Kazi Nazrul Islam
The Curse
The Curse
When I shall be no more
You will suffer, I promise,
Cursed, friendless and alone.
Then you will ask the evening star about me,
And with my picture engrave, fin your heart
Will roam through forests and seas
And around hills and dales,
Weeping many a desolate tear.
Then you will realise, my dear,
Then you will search for me desperately
Far and near.
When your soul will tremble
At some one's familiar touch,
And your heart will gladden
Imagining my presence by your bed,
You will suddenly wake up with a start
From your sleep,
And discover with a freezing heart
That it was nothing but an empty dream.
With eager arms spread
You will advance to embrace,
But there will be no trace of me.
Instead, you will meet
An emptiness, dull and dreary.
In anguish you will close your eyes,
Then my darling will you realise.
Trying to sing
You will find your voice choked with tears.
And, all around, people will whisper
About the song, taught by that stranger,
And then you will remember me,
And the fond caresses I bestowed on you.
Thinking of those nights
Your hard and glittering eyes
Will overflow with brimming tears
Then will you regret your past deceptions,
Then will you realise the pang of separation.
When your garden will grow fragrant
With daisies, jasmine and ivy bowers
You will suddenly think of my grave
Covered with snow-white flowers,
And your fingers, busy in making a garland
Will suddenly grow1hesitant and numb.
Your smiling face will turn pale and wan,
And tears will swim in your eyes,
Then, my dear, will you realise.
Autumn wind will come again,
And the lovely dewy nights will reappear
All, all will remain
Save this traveller, bound for the eternal night.
Friends will gather by your side.
And the love will take you in his arms,
But suddenly his touch
Will bring to your mind
The touch of another one.
Turning the joyous moment poisonous and bitter.
That is my cruse for you, sweetheart dear.
Winter nights will come again
But I will return no more.
Yet you will remember the time
When resting your head on my loving arm
You quietly slept, with only contempt in your heart.
The memory of those days
Will make your bed one of singing thorns,
I forecast.
The tide will come in the river again.
Again the boat will float en a pleasure cruise
With gay and loving company.
And yet, the memory of other voyages,
Of a boat speeding by the dark coast,
And of me sitting close beside
Will haunt you like a ghost relentlessly.
Then will Your tears mingle with your sighs,
Then you will realise..
When Your friend will be imprisoned like me
You will shed bitter tears,
When he will treat You negligently
Your happiness will lie in ruins
Then will You find Your days
Cheerless, dreary and lying.
Then will you realise, how very wrong
You were about me.
The rises will blossom again
Again the stars will shine,
And the pale moon reign in the sky:
Season will follow season in regular order,.
But for you
There will be no pleasure.
You will only cry and bewail your lost treasure.
The storm will come,
All tornado will appear,
All ties will break asunder.
And your tiny cottage will tremble in fear.
Then you will remember him
Who will not be by your side.
And you will hanker for his caresses, my dear.
At that hour will you realise.
At that hour will you regret your profuse lies.
The wound in my bosom
That once hurt you so..
Would perhaps appear sweet to. you now.
Tired and weary and forlorn at last
You might now seek it yourself,
And then shall I reappear.
And who knows
You will probably throw yourself
In my arms in a pleasant swoon
And worship me in humility.
Then will you know, my dear,
Then will the final truth be simple and clear.
[Translation: Kabir Chowdhury]
When I shall be no more
You will suffer, I promise,
Cursed, friendless and alone.
Then you will ask the evening star about me,
And with my picture engrave, fin your heart
Will roam through forests and seas
And around hills and dales,
Weeping many a desolate tear.
Then you will realise, my dear,
Then you will search for me desperately
Far and near.
When your soul will tremble
At some one's familiar touch,
And your heart will gladden
Imagining my presence by your bed,
You will suddenly wake up with a start
From your sleep,
And discover with a freezing heart
That it was nothing but an empty dream.
With eager arms spread
You will advance to embrace,
But there will be no trace of me.
Instead, you will meet
An emptiness, dull and dreary.
In anguish you will close your eyes,
Then my darling will you realise.
Trying to sing
You will find your voice choked with tears.
And, all around, people will whisper
About the song, taught by that stranger,
And then you will remember me,
And the fond caresses I bestowed on you.
Thinking of those nights
Your hard and glittering eyes
Will overflow with brimming tears
Then will you regret your past deceptions,
Then will you realise the pang of separation.
When your garden will grow fragrant
With daisies, jasmine and ivy bowers
You will suddenly think of my grave
Covered with snow-white flowers,
And your fingers, busy in making a garland
Will suddenly grow1hesitant and numb.
Your smiling face will turn pale and wan,
And tears will swim in your eyes,
Then, my dear, will you realise.
Autumn wind will come again,
And the lovely dewy nights will reappear
All, all will remain
Save this traveller, bound for the eternal night.
Friends will gather by your side.
And the love will take you in his arms,
But suddenly his touch
Will bring to your mind
The touch of another one.
Turning the joyous moment poisonous and bitter.
That is my cruse for you, sweetheart dear.
Winter nights will come again
But I will return no more.
Yet you will remember the time
When resting your head on my loving arm
You quietly slept, with only contempt in your heart.
The memory of those days
Will make your bed one of singing thorns,
I forecast.
The tide will come in the river again.
Again the boat will float en a pleasure cruise
With gay and loving company.
And yet, the memory of other voyages,
Of a boat speeding by the dark coast,
And of me sitting close beside
Will haunt you like a ghost relentlessly.
Then will Your tears mingle with your sighs,
Then you will realise..
When Your friend will be imprisoned like me
You will shed bitter tears,
When he will treat You negligently
Your happiness will lie in ruins
Then will You find Your days
Cheerless, dreary and lying.
Then will you realise, how very wrong
You were about me.
The rises will blossom again
Again the stars will shine,
And the pale moon reign in the sky:
Season will follow season in regular order,.
But for you
There will be no pleasure.
You will only cry and bewail your lost treasure.
The storm will come,
All tornado will appear,
All ties will break asunder.
And your tiny cottage will tremble in fear.
Then you will remember him
Who will not be by your side.
And you will hanker for his caresses, my dear.
At that hour will you realise.
At that hour will you regret your profuse lies.
The wound in my bosom
That once hurt you so..
Would perhaps appear sweet to. you now.
Tired and weary and forlorn at last
You might now seek it yourself,
And then shall I reappear.
And who knows
You will probably throw yourself
In my arms in a pleasant swoon
And worship me in humility.
Then will you know, my dear,
Then will the final truth be simple and clear.
[Translation: Kabir Chowdhury]
696
Kazi Nazrul Islam
The Bird-Hunter's Song
The Bird-Hunter's Song
Who is that who looks askance at me?
Is it a look of fear, diffidence or tenderness?
She smiles at me holding the aerial roots of the banyan,
Or floating her water vessel in the pond.
As she watches me bird-hunting
Her eyes fill with tears like a pair
of mussel-shells brimmed
with water from a kohl-dark lake.
The water lilies tremble in the clasp of her palm.
She knits her brows and chides me --
Is it fear, diffidence or tenderness?
Reclining her relaxed body, she arranges her tress,
Tucks at the waist the end of her dress;
She cracks her fingers and drags her feet,
oh, how she drags her feet!
At times she dives in the water,
at times she swims about,
For dallying at the ghat, she finds all the excuse.
She wants me to believe that
she is waiting for someone else.
Is it in fear, diffidence or tenderness?
[Translated from the Bangla by Farida Majid]
Who is that who looks askance at me?
Is it a look of fear, diffidence or tenderness?
She smiles at me holding the aerial roots of the banyan,
Or floating her water vessel in the pond.
As she watches me bird-hunting
Her eyes fill with tears like a pair
of mussel-shells brimmed
with water from a kohl-dark lake.
The water lilies tremble in the clasp of her palm.
She knits her brows and chides me --
Is it fear, diffidence or tenderness?
Reclining her relaxed body, she arranges her tress,
Tucks at the waist the end of her dress;
She cracks her fingers and drags her feet,
oh, how she drags her feet!
At times she dives in the water,
at times she swims about,
For dallying at the ghat, she finds all the excuse.
She wants me to believe that
she is waiting for someone else.
Is it in fear, diffidence or tenderness?
[Translated from the Bangla by Farida Majid]
660
Kazi Nazrul Islam
Talk to Me, Javas, Talk to Me
Talk to Me, Javas, Talk to Me
Talk to me, javas, talk to me --
What austerities did you do to get Syama Ma's feet?
Torn from your stems on illusion's plants,
Falling scattered to the ground at Her feet,
You got liberation
Bursting open
Beside yourselves with joy.
If only I could learn from your example
My life might bear fruit.
Thousands of sweet-smelling flowers bloom in the woods,
And they're all such beauties! So how come
You got Ma's feet?
You're just ignoran't javas!
Crimson like you at the Mother's feet,
When will they be flowers
Offered to Her, blessed by Her?
When will they turn red
At the touch of Her feet?
When will they, just like you, blush scarlet -These
dull petals of my mind?
Talk to me, javas, talk to me --
What austerities did you do to get Syama Ma's feet?
Torn from your stems on illusion's plants,
Falling scattered to the ground at Her feet,
You got liberation
Bursting open
Beside yourselves with joy.
If only I could learn from your example
My life might bear fruit.
Thousands of sweet-smelling flowers bloom in the woods,
And they're all such beauties! So how come
You got Ma's feet?
You're just ignoran't javas!
Crimson like you at the Mother's feet,
When will they be flowers
Offered to Her, blessed by Her?
When will they turn red
At the touch of Her feet?
When will they, just like you, blush scarlet -These
dull petals of my mind?
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