Today the water sang an ancient song, ...I never saw you even at the century's birth... What if I too disappear? Will you write at the end, in mockery, that poison arrows pierced the heart?
Today the dry leaves have not been crushed— Clinging to the last drop of green, waiting only to write a poem, they've traveled the long road! They want to say...want to say, you haven't returned! You haven't returned to my poetry!
Today even the weaver bird hasn't built its nest in the grass, The uprooted drops of water have wept through all eight watches! The two fledglings, touched by sorrow, wear freedom's shackles on their wings! Wrapping love's last fragrance in a bundle, Desperate to deliver it, they've crossed your ocean of questions!
Today the dawn hasn't reddened in its familiar rebellion, Hasn't drawn a single drop of water from Yamuna's breast; The cloudless sky, like some newly widowed woman! A lifeless blue-marked empty desert! They are all travelers on the death-path of the soul, In their final footprints they've sketched an endless lament! Seeing this, you became a poet, you said, Ah! How wonderful...how wonderful!
The fireflies didn't light their lamps that day; You said, against darkness's body they are hundreds! So the fireflies sent me handfuls of light in my name! With so much light, what shall I do, tell me?
Yes, with such neglect, how do you write poetry? Tell me, why does eye-blazing light smear itself with separation? Tell me, why does the pond of sorrow hide such laughter? Tell me, why does Tagore's Subha gather joy in silence? Does Pratap know how to play with words too? Or Apu... leaning on story-pages, draws Aparna's portrait! No... no... that's Aparna's delusion! Apurba Ray only writes Pulu's name on the story's page!
I remember our Santiniketan's Haimanti... Whose death held love's completion! Still waiting for wedding pipes to sound once more! Or helpless Dr. Shambhunath's daughter Kalyani? Whose manuscript filled with remorse was her love's confession! Do you remember Mala, the wife by the Padma's shore? Who bathed with turmeric all over her body, raising waves in Kuber's heart...that Mala who was powerless! Who didn't know how to become Kapila wearing a purple sari! Who couldn't understand that love means restlessness, not lying still in a corner of the house!
At the end, and at the very end, Do you remember me? A flower-girl walking with her back to the light, Shrouded in darkness! From whose body the scent of death constantly spreads! You threw a few coins from afar and said, There's such a famine at the rose shop! Don't mind, no time... I'm just a two-penny shepherd!
Oh, buy one rose, Open the letter's envelope once, Call me by name again, Just once, call me by name...!