Have you seen the sea?

Have you seen the sea? Haven’t seen? Nor have I,
      yet have heard
Of the blue waters, the unbounded waves scattered in the
      distant horizon.
My azure heart in like the sea, woe-begone
      have you not seen?
The countless waves of desire rise and fall
      kissing the shores of your memory.
Never heard? The tempests roaring music of my sea
      haven’t you heard?
Don’t you understand? Do you ever feel in the garden
      the soft prelude of spring?
The rainbow you have seen? The mesmerizing light
      and the pride of the monsoon clouds
Can’t you then see the riot of colours
      in the love inflamed sky of my heart?
Awake in the midnight have you sometime heard
      of the keteki’s crest fallen voice?
In the muffled cries of birds have you tried
      to trace the tidings of the human heart!
I know what you know. Hail my heartless love!
      You only know
You yourself versus me and mine. Pity you know not why
      the proud victory garland
Is made of the wilted jasmines? Why
      the memorial of our union, the golden palace
Is steeped in the world’s sorrow? Pouring
      the red blood of the heart
Why the cleansing of the deity’s feet? You won’t understand my friend!
      In what plight
We immerse the Goddess on the vain tenth evening
      She who was consecrated on the sixth!
Has evening descended? Dear you need not light the lamp;
      The benign light of your eyes
Shall today destroy the darkness of my world.

             [ Translated by Baishali Baruah ]

 
A Poet’s Wish

I am a poet, I sing, weave dreams with words
      For I who write poetry
In the kiss of the flower and the butterfly
      I seek for love’s simile.
Afar in the wild as the flame of life flickers;
      The morning star
Holds the promise of the marvelous light
      On the other side of Paradise
I seek for the semblance of the skies
      In the duboris on the Kolong’s bank
The wafting sewali’s soft frangrance
      As though makes me high
On the bokul branch the yon Sakhiwati’s
      soulful cries
The echoes spill my heart
      And flood the skies.
The lament of life is my poetry
      The language of my songs
But in some moonlight night
      Do the tremors stir any young heart?
When a beauty stands by the mirror
      Immersed in her own charm
Would she then recall a stanza from the poems
      Of this melancholy one?
Wont a damsel’s vainglorious youth
      Implore her to think
Of the poet who paints in metre
      The golden picture of the tear-torn life?
My earthern lamp may be light
      Or is doused when touched
But the winds of passion alas can never
      Ruffle the depth of the stars in my sky.
What do I desire in return? What riches.
      My poor heart wish?
The spark of a smile, two tear drops
      In a pair of eyes.

             [ Translated by Baishali Baruah ]

 
Manorama

In your eyes lies the wonder of a dream
In your face the shadow of a moon
In your breath — the breeze of tender grass
Soft and perfumed tender grass
Who has sprayed the darkness of the night
In your lustrous black hair?

When did the dove teach you
With its sad forlorn voice
Your laughter is the wind on the advent of monsoon
In your sprightliness lies the ripples of the river Kolong
Where blooms the water hyacinth

The soft, delicate fingers and the wrist like lotus stem
The baton of the loom quakes
And the weaver’s shuttle move ceaselessly
Soft, delicate fingers and the wrist like lotus stem
The baton of the loom quakes
And the weaver’s shuttle move ceaselessly
Soft, supple breast, pinkish lips
Teeth like pomegranate seeds

My world without you is a desert friend
And you’re the source of my poetry.

             [ Translated by SN ]