In that Srabon sky (2) আমি শ্রাবণ-আকাশে ওই দিয়েছি পাতি aami srobono akashe oi diyechhi paati  In that Srabon* sky I have placed in the clouds My eyes brimming with tears The bamboo forests sigh with my ache Across the horizon of separation The whole night awake sans a wink Across the horizon of separation My eyes yearn for the bliss of union  One who is out of sight For that one is this gaze He left me teary eyed As he went beyond my sight  His locks caress my dreams Blowing in the eastern breeze. I feel the caress of his locks In the eastern breeze  In Tamal* tree forests On the path that he left, In that dusk of separation Amidst the dust of cows homeward bound, The grass is wrapped in agony The sorrow of words unsaid Punctuates each step That gazing back time and again Remains woven in the shadows A tremor in every breath
No more can I endure so আমি যে আর সইতে পারি নে Ami jey aar shoitey paariney  No more can I endure so My heartstrings play the right notes Weave in the words I cannot  My heart bows like a creeper Weighed by the flowering of woe No more can I endure so  Today within my being In the secretmost chambers How this breeze makes me quiver Yearnful rustles thrill me so Who is that virtuoso Who tunes his Veena at dawn I hear the lilting strains of his song No longer can I remain at home Translated by Rumela Sengupta
The songs I sing আমি যে গান গাই Ami je gaan gaai jaani ne she kaar uddeshe   The songs I sing,      Whom do they address, I wonder. When they emerge in my mind Without rhyme or reason,  In restless breeze,           An alien bird takes flight; My tunes fleet away,  Towards whom, I wonder.  I gaze at that face -- Is it you, a dream of the past Garbed in the present? Sometimes, she surfaces in my mind                                       At my shores, The one who never happened,            And asks to be ferried across                                       In my songs.
All it is I want to take আমি সব নিতে চাই, সব নিতে ধাই রে aami shob nitey chai  All it is I want to take, all it is I want to chase Spread myself will I, my friend, out in the open Wind is in my sail, sail into the seas will I No more is the boat moored, no more.  In joy in woe amidst my heart, Wayfaring flute plays on and on In all work, it is that I hear.  Mad frenzy in the wings, Will birds rest on branches Excitement echoes in all directions Translated by Rumela Sengupta  Email This BlogThis! Share to Twitter Share to Facebook Share to Pinterest Category Melange - Bichitra
I will bewitch you not with beauty আমি রূপে তোমায় ভোলাব না ami roopey tomaay bholabo na  I will bewitch you not with beauty I will charm you with my love I will come not to the door Have it open with my song  Bedeck you not with ornaments Adorn you not with flower garlands I will wreath my love together And have it sway on your bosom  Know will none in which tempest Billow will waves in my breast Like the pull of moon, unseen Creates ripples in high tide Translated by Rumela Sengupta  Email This BlogThis! Share to Twitter Share to Facebook Share to Pinterest Category Love - Prem
In that Sravan sky placed have I আমি শ্রাবণ-আকাশে ওই দিয়েছি পাতি ami srabono akashey oi  In that Sravan* sky placed have I My eyes brimming with tears in clouds Across the horizon of schism The whole night awake sans a wink  One who is out of sight For that one is this gaze His locks caress my dreams Blowing in eastern winds.  In Tamal* tree forests On the path that he left, In that dusk of separation Amidst dust of cows homeward bound, The grass is wrapped in agony Trembling with every breath That gazing back time and again Remains woven in the shadows  *Sravan is the second month of the rainy season in Bengal *Tamal is a tree of dark colour Translated by Rumela Sengupta
Robert Louis Stevenson  Ad Nepotem O Nepos, twice my neigh(b)our (since at home We're door by door, by Flora's temple dome; And in the country, still conjoined by fate, Behold our villas standing gate by gate), Thou hast a daughter, dearer far than life - Thy image and the image of thy wife. Thy image and thy wife's, and be it so!  But why for her, { neglect the flowing } can                  { O Nepos, leave the }  And lose the prime of thy Falernian? Hoard casks of money, if to hoard be thine; But let thy daughter drink a younger wine! Let her go rich and wise, in silk and fur;  Lay down a { bin that shall }  grow old with her;            { vintage to }  But thou, meantime, the while the batch is sound, With pleased companions pass the bowl around; Nor let the childless only taste delights, For Fathers also may enjoy their nights.
Four kinds of people do not surrender unto Me—those ignorant of knowledge, those who lazily follow their lower nature though capable of knowing Me, those with deluded intellect, and those with a demoniac nature.
"My Body, Which My Dungeon Is" From Underwoods My body which my dungeon is, And yet my parks and palaces: --   Which is so great that there I go All the day long to and fro, And when the night begins to fall Throw down my bed and sleep, while all The buildings hum with wakefulness -- Even as a child of savages When evening takes her on her way, (She having roamed a summer's day Along the mountain-sides and scalp) Sleeps in an antre of that alp: --   Which is so broad and high that there, As in the topless fields of air My fancy soars like to a kite And faints in the blue infinite: --   Which is so strong, my strongest throes And the rough world's besieging blows Not break it, and so weak withal, Death ebbs and flows in its loose wall As the green sea in fishers' nets, And tops its topmost parapets: --   Which is so wholly mine that I Can wield its whole artillery, And mine so little, that my soul Dwells in perpetual control, And I but think and speak and do As my dead fathers move me to: --   If this born body of my bones The beggared soul so barely owns, What money passed from hand to hand, What creeping custom of the land, What deed of author or assign, Can make a house a thing of mine?
Say Not of Me That Weakly I Declined" From Underwoods Say not of me, that weakly I declined The labours of my siers, and fled to sea, The towers we founded and the lamps we lit, To play at home with paper like a child. But rather say: In the afternoon of time A strenuous family dusted from its hands The sand of granite, and beholding far Along the sounding coast its pyramids And tall memorials catch the cying sun, Smiled well content, and to this childish task Around the fire addressed its evening hours.
"About the Sheltered Garden Ground" About the sheltered garden ground The trees stand strangely still. The vale ne'er seemed so deep before, Nor yet so high the hill.  An awful sense of quietness, A fulness of repose, Breathes from the dewy garden-lawns, The silent garden rows.  As the hoof-beats of a troop of horse Heard far across a plain, A nearer knowledge of great thoughts Thrills vaguely through my brain.  I lean my head upon my arm, My heart's too full to think; Like the roar of seas, upon my heart Doth the morning stillness sink.
Robert Louis Stevenson  Ad Magistrum Ludi (Unfinished Draft) Now in the sky And on the hearth of Now in a drawer the direful cane, That sceptre of the . . . reign, And the long hawser, that on the back Of Marsyas fell with many a whack, Twice hardened out of Scythian hides, Now sleep till the October ides.  In summer if the boys be well.
Ad Martialem Go(d) knows, my Martial, if we two could be To enjoy our days set wholly free; To the true life together bend our mind, And take a furlough from the falser kind. No rich saloon, nor palace of the great, Nor suit at law should trouble our estate; On no vainglorious statues should we look, But of a walk, a talk, a little book, Baths, wells and meads, and the veranda shade, Let all our travels and our toils be made. Now neither lives unto himself, alas! And the good suns we see, that flash and pass And perish; and the bell that knells them cries: "Another gone: O when will ye arise?"

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