First Version: July 5, 2014. Present Revision: July 14, 2014 Can’t you hear my words of counsel pray? Why in vain then burrowed lies your head? Where shall you hide? How vast the desert’s sway - Footfall squeezed, all shady nooks lie dead. E’en a mirage today the horizon won’t display Ruthless, silent, blue the sky will loom To delude the hunter, seems there to be no way He’s got to snare you, else he spells his doom. Where’ll you flee? Run you’ll how much more? The sands uncaring won’t your claw-marks veil Childhood friends, those associates of yore Bygone all, helpless, alone your trail. What will you reap, why nurture a cracked egg-shell? Even penitence will not help to make it whole. Won’t boundless cravings self-destruction spell? In a wish free void too you can’t hope to stroll. Best that to my reasoning you pay heed Sail your fancied ship in a sea of sand News of oases you know well indeed Cautious wisdom never was your brand. A fresh new home then let us go and build In any odd retreat, thorny bush enclosed Salty water, at least, it will yield Dates will fall too, gravity’s pull unopposed. Behind a fence of mythical creepers there We shan’t build a zoo with iron grills Nor call up hosts of buyers to the fair To prune your wings of all their needless frills. With surplus feathers lying scattered on the ground Fans for a hermit’s fret-free needs we’ll weave The dusty trail of a star extinction bound We won’t hunt on a dark and moonless eve. In your undying praise no rattle’s to be heard Mindless greed with thoughts will never combine Lullaby songs of a harvest stealing bird Won’t link you with the crash of twenty nine. The wounds of damage must, of course, be borne By us alone, I know, in equal share The early ones have booked their gains and gone It’s left for us all remaining debts to clear. Disgusting is this game of self-amour! Can blindness ever keep devastations on wait? Avoiding me will swell your woes for sure Self-deception suits not a dire strait. Let’s get together and sign this treaty then Helping each our opposite goals to reach You can guide me beyond the mortal plane And I my friend will find you a worldly niche. ______________________________ This is a translation/transcreation of a classic Bengali poem “utpakhi” (উটপাখী) into English. The poet was Sudhindranath Datta. He published it in a collection called “krandasi” (ক্রন্দসী) in the Bengali year 1344, which could have been 1937 approximately according to the Western calendar. The exact date of writing this particular poem is not clear at this point of time. It was my good friend Dianne Shiff Thaler who taught me the correct American pronunciation of the last word I used in my work. That was more than 40 years ago. However, it is never too late to thank a friend.
Liked the poem very much especially the last stanza: The wounds of damage must of course be borne by us alone....... Needed lot of time to understand the intricate meaning in the poem and its relatedness to the current era. Best wishes