The Rain, Not for the Birds

The clouds are rumbling, also showering.
In the deep night, I stay awake under the dim light.
Do the birds stay awake if they are soaked
On such night ? I will keep up awake, but never
Change into birds. The rainfall hardly suggests for the birds,
It is also not for the person lonely awake at night.
The more the clouds are rumbling,
The more I become lonely. When at night,
The rain starts solitarily, the lonely men 'n' birds
Do feel pains equally. If the birds don't twitter,
People cannot sleep. If the birds don't twitter,
People cannot wake up from sleep.
A man becomes a love-sick lover if he cannot sleep.
The love-sick lovers cannot have dreams
While awakened. If the lover cannot sleep,
The beloved departs far off.
The birds and the beloved ladies are much adored.
The clouds rumbling, the night also getting longer.
Now the rain shouldn't visit a lonely abode.

You Will ever Keep Awake.

Keep yourself awake on the forms of artistry
As unparallel. Keep yourself awake in between
The gaps of red-bricks in Sompura.
The stairs that are going up in Paharpur,
Going up 'n' up, I pay my heed there to feel
The intense thrill of your resonating footsteps.
Either on the peak of Adinath or Rangkut,
There is never found the last steps, only remains
The awakening soul. The souls go farther up,
Going up in the streams of sacred lights.
You keep yourself awake, in the wavy greenery
Like the fringe of mother's Shari.
With an extant of my eye-sights,
I want to see how intense lights
You have gained on the crossing boats !
How intense the love is painted
In the wink of eyes ! What a surprising
Awakening in the showers of deep ardours !
You will keep yourself awake, awakening for ever,
In the course of everlasting desire for visioning.

Either Human or Goddess

Back home, after your devotional prayer,
You're a benign woman, or the Goddess.
I suppose, you've achieved completeness.
I suppose, your river water, your wind, all
Achieved entirety. You're splendidly versioned,
With your utterances, impressions of your eyes,
And sincerity. Your physical grace is full of
Sacredness. With a fresh flowery fragrance,
With a passion for renaissance, you're heading
In a confidential manner, having a breathing celestial.
I imagine, I am flooded with your utterances,
With your sights, with your sacred physical graces.
Thereupon, I take for granted, me too merged
In you, as a human or the Goddess.

If the Sanctified Water Sprinkles

I'm going to feel the universal water
And to perceive Buddha's sermons.
Some kites will be floating there on air up
To offer eternal peace. Some snails arising
Out of sand will stare at the new guests
In blinking eyes. There in the lap of hills
And skies and seas, it seems to me that
I'm just a narrower alluvial river.
How were the messages of non-violence
In those past ages before the eternal holy water !
Buddha is not aware of how many lives today
Become victims− more of them will drown deep into
The ocean ! Scarcity and greed are here merged
In the bright sunshine. And from there in dark nights
Are born death-sorcery. The primitive wild people
Come back with octopus'bluish paws.
I see Ramu burning in the naked dance of
Blazing flame. Getting melted in fire,
The man 'n' its humanity, the temples of faith
Everywhere burnt to ashes.
Everywhere I see a huge span of water,
Vast shades, but Ramu is still burning.
Buddha knows not, the ocean water knows not
How to extinguish such an extensive fire !
And I'm a simple guest, a little narrower stream,
In touch with the human world.
I can only wish if the sanctified water was ever
Sprinkled on the earth !

Rightlessness

Better not to go to the depth.
One can at least cross the seashore while walking.
Mind it, better not to cross the longitude.
No need to write excessively.
While writing, better not to cross the margin.
Draw your eyes irregularly on the palm lines.
Only this much.
Do have fear about astrology.
Let the flowers for worship be kept
On the platforms of the Goddess.
Don't strike your head hard again and again
On the gravestones.
Not at all good to be rolled round intimacy.
The water should stay as water only.
On the reverse part of the coin,
The musical note is but desolate.
The light hardly enters much deep down.
Known it to us that there is intense dark
In the depth of lights.
We can at least go for dying while loving others.
Love is not fulfilled while in so-called livelihood.
At the most, we can reach the
Longitudinal shades of several deaths.

Translated By- Alok Biswas , poet, India