FROM TRIUMPH to triumph they drove their chariot over the earth's
torn breast.
Round them Time's footsteps were muffled and slow, and birds'
songs lay gathered in the bosom of Night.
Drunken of red fire their torch spread its glare like an arrogant
lotus floating upon the blue with stars above as bees enchanted.
They boasted that the undying lights of the sky fed the flame they carried till it conquered the night and won homage from the sullen silence of the dark.
The bell sounds.
They start up to find they had slept dreaming of wealth and
pollution of power and the pillage of God's own temple.
The sun of the new day shines upon the night's surrender of love.
The torch lies shrouded in its ashes, and the sky rings with the
rejoicing voice,
'Victory to the earth! Victory to the heaven!
Victory to the all-conquering Light!'

দিনের আলো নামে যখন
      ছায়ার অতলে
আমি আসি ঘট ভরিবার ছলে
      একলা দিঘির জলে।
তাকিয়ে থাকি,দেখি সঙ্গীহারা
      একটি সন্ধ্যাতারা
ফেলেছে তার ছায়াটি এই
      কমলসাগরে।
ডোবে না সে, নেবে না সে,
ঢেউ দিলে সে যায় না তবু স'রে--
যেন আমার বিফল রাতের
      চেয়ে থাকার স্মৃতি
কালের কালো পটের 'পরে
   রইল আঁকা নিতি।
মোর জীবনের ব্যর্থ দীপের
      অগ্নিরেখার বাণী
             ঐ যে ছায়াখানি।

HALF ASLEEP ON the shore you dreaded
the voice of Tempest
when he thundered in your ears his 'No'.
You had said to each other
that the shore had its plenty,
the house had its comfort,
when suddenly grinding his flashing teeth
Tempest growled 'No'.
But I have made Tempest my comrade
and left my shore,
my ship tosses on the sea.
I have trusted the Terrible,
have filled my sails with his breath
and my heart with his assurance
that the shore is there.
He cries to me, 'You are vagrant
even as I am myself,
Victory to you.'
Things are shattered to pieces
scattered by the wind,
the timid murmur in despair,
'The end of time has come.'
Tempest cries, 'Only that remains
which is utterly given away.'
With trust in him I march forward,
I look not back
while the hoarded heap is swept away by flood.
My traveller's reed is tuned
with the tune of his loud laughter,
it sings: Away with lures of desire,
with bonds that are fixed,
with the achievement that is past and hope that is idle.
Learn for your drum the dance-time
of the reckless waves beating against rocks.
Away with greed and fear,
with tyranny's banner borne by slaves.
Come Divine Destruction,
drive us away from the house,
from safety's easy path.
Come with the flutter of your wings of death,
spread upon the wind your cry 'No'.
No rest, no languor,
No load of feebleness weighing down the head.
Knock and break open the miser's door.
Scatter away the musty gloom of storage,
banish the self-distrust
that seeks a hole wherein to hide,
and let your trumpet proclaim
in the wind
your terrible cry 'No'.