Poems From The Gitanjali

80  Aami Sharot Shesher Megher Moto

Like clouds drifting at autumn's end
        I drift towards the horizon,
    Repeatedly, and without reason!
    Dearest, you are my sun forever
        It's you I treasure—
    But till this day your beams
Haven't streamed on me
    Touching me till
Making me one with your light.
And so, separated from you,
    I count the months and years!

Dearest, if this is how you want things to be,
        If this is your game plan for me,
        Play on with me endlessly!
        Take the vacuous speck that I am
            And my transient being;
        Color me in many hues
        Gild me with your gold
        Float me in the wayward breeze
            Sport with me ceaselessly
            And make of my emptiness
                An everyday marvel!

Dearest, when it pleases you to do so,
    Wrap up your sport with me
    In the dense darkness of midnight.
    I'll disperse then into darkest night,
        Crying endlessly!
    In dawn all that will remain
    In an unstained sky
    Is a pervasive smile –
        Chaste, transparent and bright;
    And clouds that merge playfully
With the sea of stars above!

(Kheya: “Leela”)

   81  Majhe Majhe Kotobar Bhabhi

Every now and often I think how indolently
I spend my days, letting time pass uselessly.

But O Lord, those days aren't spent in vain
Since you always accept them as your own.
O Lord, lodged deep in my innermost being,
Secretly, unnoticed, and in your leisure,
You make seeds to sprout into fruit,
Buds to blossom in varied hues,
And fruits to overflow with sweet sap.
Nevertheless, overcome by deep sleep
Lazily, I would keep lying in my bed
Thinking my work had not yet ended!

But when, at dawn, I opened my eyes
I saw my garden was filled with flowers!  

(Naibedya: 24)

   82  He Rajendro

Supreme One, time is eternal for you!

No one counts when days or night pass
Or when ages flourish or subside
You never delay nor ever feel rushed
And know how to bide time. Leisurely,
You'll let a century pass to let a flower
Bloom. But time is never in our hands
And we jostle with each other over it.
None of us can ever bear to be late!

Lord, I devote my days to everyone
Serving them fully till my time is gone.
Alas, I thus let your altar stay barren.  

Distraught, I then rush to you anxiously,
To find that you always had time for me!

(Naibedya: 39)