THE LAST GLEAM ¹

By Raghunath Choudhary

(Translated from the Assamese by Praphulladatla Goswami, M.A.)

In the store of the world I begged for affection

I asked for the gift of the heart,

only venom came up in the churning of the ocean

nectar I could not find.

With wild desires I ran after the golden deer

and roamed all over the world,

my untamable craving was not quenched

the arrow which I aimed came to nought.

The weight of this heart-broken and sorrow-stricken life

is moving in the vortex of blind attachment,

of my torpid and weak, mind

ignorance is robbing consciousness.

The thousand sores of sorrow, the humility of frustration,

the hot breath of a burnt heart–

who would remove them, O who would listen

to the dream-fantasy of my Arabian-Nights?

The polestar of my life is setting

in the past fold of eternity:

won’t I attain in the other world

to the supreme bliss of the true gleam

¹ The milieu of this poem is early twentieth century.

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