Monday, August 31, 2020

Boosting a desire for collective life

(1688)  Rudra tomar visana bejeche

Rudra,[1] Your horn has resounded,
With the tunes of nor'westers.
Narrow-minded thoughts, where have they drifted off,
Amid frightful cyclone's roar?

Neath a sheet of dust is the greenery;
Lost has got its glossy subtlety.
All sweetness is become obsolete;
In lamentation, bamboo groves weep.

There is no more staying idly preoccupied,
No more scope for futile waste of time.
By the boon of Rudra, all of you, come on alike,
Vying with the Stormgod's ire.

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