Bengali Poetry (Translated)

In fortress after fortress, in the sanctuary of fearlessness

The monsoon's veil has lifted, clear blue sky appears.
Gazing at this wondrous world—doubt dissolves in destruction's wake;
It whispers a great message, stirring joy and tears
In the earth-bride's heart, as Kedar's grace-streams break
Into advent-song, soul deep in soul. Has a new caress
Touched the beautiful naked child within my breast?
That mind steeped in the nectar-flow of mother-tenderness—
Above it shines a sun-chain like an island blessed.

Autumn's festival nectar fills nature's cup once more—
Who are you that comes to wake, bearing earth's deep song, the world's core?

In eternal longing's phantom-deer musk fragrance
My life-hermitage kindles its mind-flame bright.
Where do mental pilgrims journey in such radiance,
To what sacred path will they bear their soul's rite?
In tranquil embrace, solitude yearns to bring
To the deathless ocean endless mystery's face,
Today great nature draws with these eyes outlining
The formless body's song, remembering Brahman's grace.

To give the world love's true touch from that maya-light and shadow's art,
Who are you, sounding the awakening conch in my devotion's heart?

In dreams sky-flowers bloomed, how many stars have fallen,
On rainy nights rang music in seven-note harmonies,
I've heard words of separation's pain, silent tears have swollen,
Flowing away far...the days slain in moments' histories.
In sorrow's stream, through blow and counter-blow, amid life's ocean
Like an isolated isle—this life in forest beauty
I spend, where mother's praise sounds in devotion
With conch, ululation, drums; when shall I offer you my elegy?

In household's quiet layers...how oft that infinite call reached my soul?
What message do you bring...speak, speak, speak—enough of words that roll!

Taking ten-armed form, O playful one of the great seeker's heart!
Mother, you have come, primal power granting liberation's art
In the world-savior's body, with compassion's nectar make death-conquering
That seeker whose story the melody-river keeps on offering!
At your feet this inner child calls seeking peace,
Perhaps seeking refuge in that boundless ocean-breast;
The drop merges in the endless, still I call you without cease,
All the universe's streams flow into that joy where all find rest.

I craft a mind-image for autumn festival, joyfully wake consciousness,
Come all of you, wake mother-power—let the mind return to mind's recess!
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