94
THE GLOW-WORM while exploring the dust
never knows that stars are in the sky.

হাসির সময় বড়ো নেই,
দু দণ্ডের তরে গান গাওয়া।
নিমেষের মাঝে চুমো খেয়ে
মুহূর্তে ফুরাবে চুমো খাওয়া।
বেলা নাই শেষ করিবারে
অসম্পূর্ণ প্রেমের মন্ত্রণা--
সুখস্বপ্ন পলকে ফুরায়,
তার পরে জাগ্রত যন্ত্রণা।
কিছু ক্ষণ কথা কয়ে লও,
তাড়াতাড়ি দেখে লও মুখ,
দু দণ্ডের খোঁজ দেখাশুনা--
ফুরাইবে খুঁজিবার সুখ।
বেলা নাই কথা কহিবারে
যে কথা কহিতে ফাটে প্রাণ।
দেবতারে দুটো কথা ব'লে
পূজার সময় অবসান।
কাঁদিতে রয়েছে দীর্ঘ দিন--
জীবন করিতে মরুময়,
ভাবিতে রয়েছে চিরকাল--
ঘুমাইতে অনন্ত সময়।

THE SANTAL woman hurries up and down the gravelled path under the
shimool tree; a coarse grey sari closely twines her slender limbs, dark and compact; its red border sweeping across the air with the flaming red magic of the palash flower.
Some absent-minded divine designer, while fashioning a black bird
with the stuff of the July cloud and the lightning flash, must have improvised unawares this woman's form; her impulsive wings hidden within, her nimble steps uniting in them a woman's walk and a bird's flight.
With a few lacquer bangles on her exquisitely modelled arms and a
basket full of loose earth on her head, she flits across the gravel-red path under the shimool tree.
The lingering winter has finished its errand. The casual breath
of the south is beginning to tease the austerity of the cold month. On the himjhuri branches the leaves are taking the golden tint of a rich decay.
The ripe fruits are strewn over the amlaki grove where the rowdy boys crowd to pillage them. Swarms of dead leaves and dust are capering in a ghastly whirl following sudden caprices of the wind.
The building of my mud house has commenced and labourers are busy
raising the walls. The distant whistle announces the passing of the train along the railway cutting, and the dingdong of the bell is heard from the neighbouring school.
I sit on my terrace watching the young woman foiling at her task
hour after hour. My heart is touched with shame when I feel that the woman's service sacredly ordained for her loved ones, its dignity soiled by the market price, should have been robbed by me with the help of a few pieces of copper.