TRAVELLER
(A
Poem)
(Translated
from the original in Bengali)
Traveller young, what
way now shall you tread?
The
failing rays fade fast into night’s abysmal shade.
In my path’s gloomy deep.
The
hidden morn drives its sleep.
Night
when darkest, dawns the day with light sacred.
The
waves in wrath leap to the blackened sky.
A
storm is up, boatman, hear the hurricane cry.
‘Fronting
dangers all,
Ever
obeying His call,
Safe
shall I sail across, On Him I rely.’
The
high wind blows bitter, flowers wither.
What
hast thou laid by to Thy Beloved to offer?
‘When
the hour comes close
Will
open my secret rose.
Not
for a while I rue if spring be yet afar.
Thy
violin lies broken and the strings are torn;
Where’s
thy music that shall thrill this murk stubborn?
‘From
my heart’s inmost core
Resounds a luminous lore.
The
minute-lamps are out, the timeless day is born.’
The
temple-candles are cast down by the ruthless gale.
And
we wonder how you voice the supreme marvel!
‘I
have my gardens filled
With
plants that always yield
Flower-suns that the earth’s dismal night dispel.’