BEHIND AN infinite secrecy of the dark
from which the world of prying lights was shut out
there walked in the Destroyer,
and underneath the pall of an ominous hush
rehearsed reparation in the deep of my being.
At last the stage was made vacant
for the new act of life's play,
when a fiery finger from the sky touched a fringe of the darkness
and a lightning thrill
pierced the immensity of sleep
breaking it to pieces.
A stream of awakening began to course through the veins of a
blind inertness
as the first flood of the rainy June pursues its branching path
amidst the emptiness of a dry river-bed.
Big boulders of shadows barricaded the passage of light
and created confusion
till they were swept away,
and the spirit of new life unbared herself
in a luminous horizon of peace.
This body of mine
the carrier of the burden of a past
seemed to me like an exhausted cloud
slipping off from the listless arm of the morning.
I felt freed from its clasp
in the heart of an incorporeal light
at the furthest shore
of evanescent things.

না রে, না রে,    হবে না তোর স্বর্গসাধন--
                     সেখানে যে মধুর বেশে
                            ফাঁদ পেতে রয় সুখের বাঁধন।
                     ভেবেছিলি দিনের শেষে
                     তপ্ত পথের প্রান্তে এসে
                     সোনার মেঘে মিলিয়ে যাবে
                            সারা দিনের সকল কাঁদন।
না রে, না রে,    হবে না তোর হবে না তা--
                     সন্ধ্যাতারার হাসির নীচে
                            হবে না তোর শয়ন পাতা।
                     পথিক বঁধু পাগল ক'রে
                     পথে বাহির করবে তোরে,
                     হৃদয় যে তোর ফেটে গিয়ে
                            ফুটবে তবে তাঁর আরাধন।

I AM GLAD you will not wait for me with that lingering pity in your look.
        It is only the spell of the night and my farewell words, startled at their own tune of despair, which bring these tears to my eyes. But day will dawn, my eyes will dry and my heart; and there will be no time for weeping.
Who says it is hard to forget?
        The mercy of death works at life's core, bringing it respite from its own foolish persistence.
        The stormy sea is lulled at last in its rocking-cradle; the forest fire falls to sleep on its bed of ashes.
        You and I shall part, and the cleavage will be hidden under living grass and flowers that laugh in the sun.