Prabhat Ranjan Sarkar

Friday, October 10, 2014

(112) Iishan konete megh jamiyache

In the northeast, clouds are gathering.^[1] Terrible winds are blowing. Today, the nor'westers^[2] have come. Bay windows are shut fast. Alarmed by the sound of thunder, All now stay indoors, Listening for rain's dance. So many cherished trees are getting uprooted. Damaged fruits drop and drop. In gale and in hail, Birds who've lost their nest, how they do weep. Midsummer, in the form of thunderbolts, The awesome Lord, He dances so wildly. At sea, ships in great terror Are tossed by the waves.

(111) Venukar van kii katha kay

What does the bamboo grove say today? Alas, grieving her fallen leaves, She responds to what she sees with mute face. She has lost her verdant allure, All grace blasted away by dust. In the cane and kadam^[1] groves, A pleasant breeze no longer blows. Awesome Lord, what's Your game, The cruel sport in murderous heat? How far away is the music of rain, With desert thirst, the pied cuckoo^[2] ascertains.

(110) Griismavakashe se yadi ase

Should He come during my summer break, I'll offer flowers, both hands full. I'll offer flowers, only flowers. Under the crimson sky, beside morning magnolia, Let Him bring His rhythmic, rosy feet. The cuckoo still speaks a few words At dawn when the south wind blows, And a nightingale on her palash branch chirps That the riverbed is almost dry. Ashoka blossoms are dropping fast and all but fallen; The silk cotton trees are almost full of seeds. Grape clusters flourish, row after row; And in the overgrown hiptage bower, Bumblebees hum on obtaining flowers.

(109) Bandhu tomar gopan katha

Abiding friend, Your secrets— Whisper them into my ears, Into my ears. The summertime agony of all— Explain it to me in Your songs, In Your songs. Flowers that have bloomed are getting scorched, And unopened buds are falling. Curtailed is the flow of rivers, Steam rising into the air. Is this pain only mine, or is it everyone's? Is this not Your affliction everywhere? The restless grass wants to awake, But it does not rise for fear of burning. In the heat, the icebergs Drift in tears. Is this pain only mine or is it everyone's? And is this not Your affliction everywhere?

(108) Raodrer kharatape

In the grueling heat of the sun, In the scorching heat of summer... Evening jasmines and gentle winds Bring some coolness, But the mind craves more. From their load, mango tree branches stoop; With row upon row of fruit, rose-apple shrubs droop. None can endure this extreme heat— Ever the mind says so. Breezy nights and fragrant flowers Bring some relief, But the mind craves more. All the countless hardships over countless rebirths Seem to have fused in summer. Oh awesome Lord, send down rain— Ever the mind says so.

(107) Vasanta aj haslo

Spring shone today. On earth there is only cheer... In the fair glimpses of flowers, In the sweet nectars of flowers. Today, let us hasten toward heaven With the rhythm and song of peacocks and cuckoos. Let us remove all impurities As the birds give their call on this spring night. Today, the king of seasons arrived at the door; Today, the flower buds were fully awakened. Let us cast aside all inertia, Embracing the passionate ever-onward flow of life. With the touch of life, everything smiles; On only His current, everything glides.

(106) Phuler saji sathe niye

Bearing a flower basket, Who came, oh who came? A garland of songs in hand, He drifted away on a melodious stream. The bakul and bael want to open their eyes; The ashoka^[1] is captivating. The bumblebees are inclined to surrender, Intoxicated by the sweet fragrance. The stars of the distant sky twinkle. The pollen of flowers floats in the air, Blending with the pollen of life. The entire universe has grown bright. Waiting for a long time, I kept hoping for whose arrival? This morning, by His own hand, He rocked the cradle of spring.