April 3rd

I remember the day
I forgot pain –
knocked out craftily
but rebounced.
I remember the day
I forego bondage –
vowed not to be used
and then declared useless.
I remember the day
I stopped stagnating –
liberated from
self-imposed prison.
felt such a relief!
I remember the day
a long chapter closed –
friends, way too many,
left behind in a blink.
I remember the day
I forgot to look back –
God suddenly opened
a new door.

Me

By the color of my consciousness emerald is green,
ruby turns red.
I open my eyes to the sky-
light flares up
into the east and the west.
glancing at the rose I utter 'beautiful'-
beautiful it becomes.

A philosophy, not a poet's verse, you'll say.
Truth it is I'll reply
hence poetry.
This is my pride,
pride on behalf of the entire mankind.
On man's ego-canvas
the heavenly architect creates his universal art.
The theologist on every breath is reciting silently --
no, no, no-
neither emerald nor ruby, neither light nor rose,
neither me nor you.
On the other hand, the Infinite, who himself prayed
inside man’s limit,
is called “me.”
In the deep of that ‘me’ blend light and darkness,
appears beauty, kindles spirit;
‘no’ suddenly blossoms into ‘yes,’ in illusion’s spell,
in lines and colors, in happiness and despair.

Don’t call it a theory-
Delighted is my mind
in universal-me’s creation bash
with brush in the hand, and color in the palette.

The expert is saying-
The old moon, his smile cruel and clever

Crawling like a death-messenger towards earth’s ribcage.
Someday it will exert the ultimate pull at its mountain and sea;
On the planet will descend a full-page zero
in eternity’s new book,
will engulp the savings of night and day;
Man’s achievement will lose the vanity of immortality,
on its history will smear
the endless night’s soot.
Man’s farewell-bidding eyes
will extract color from earth
Man’s departing-day’s soul
will mop up the flavor.
Power will vibrate from sky to sky,
light will glow nowhere.
In the speechless concert, musicians' fingers will move,
no tune will play.
That day, poetic-less Lord will sit alone
in the blueless sky
with the logic of personality-less existence
Then in the vast universe
far and far away, among the endless, countless worlds and the next
this sound will not echo anywhere-
‘you are beautiful’,
‘I love’.
Will the Lord sit down again to pray
for eons
reciting in the dissolute-evening
‘please speak, please speak’
uttering, ‘say, you are beautiful’,
uttering, ‘say, I love’?

Don't wake me up

Don't wake me up.
Let me sleep a li'l more -
Under the dark canopy of nightsky
I feel comfortable
like a baby in a mother's womb.
Don't wake me up.

I had gazed at the stars
like an ancient mariner who's
hoping dawn will bring
the sight of his beloved.
I had wished upon a shooting star -
no child be homeless without love
no mother with wrenching emptiness.
And then I had fallen asleep.

I dream a better day will come
I dream a better world awaits -
safe, green and without prejudice.
filled with promise and potential.

Don't wake me up.
Let me sleep a li'l more -
Let me enjoy even if it's a dream.

I Sing in Bengali (Ami Banglay Gaan Gai)

I sing in Bengali, I sing of Bengal
I find my groove forever in this Bengal.
I dream in Bengali, in Bengali I compose
Have walked this far on this Bengal's affectionate roads
Bengal's my life's joy, Bengali soul's tune
I see once, I see many a times, I see Bengal's face.

I speak in Bengali, I speak of Bengal
I float in Bengali, laugh in Bengali, I stay awake in Bengal
I exult in Bengali, grieve in Bengali.
Seeing everything, agitated I scream in Bengali
Bengali is my bold slogan, launched bow 'n arrow
I see once, I see many a times, I see Bengal's face

I love in Bengali, I love Bengal
Holding her hands I come to the whole world's folks.
Anything that's great I've humbly embraced
Water from seven seas and 13 rivers flows into Padma and Ganges
Bengal is my thrist-quencher, satiating last sip
I see once, I see many a times, I see Bengal's face.

I sing in Bengali, I sing of Bengal
I find my groove forever in this Bengal
I dream in Bengali, in Bengali I compose
Have walked this far on this Bengal's affectionate roads.
Bengal's my life's joy, Bengali soul's tune
I see once, I see many a times, I see Bengal's face.
I see once, I see many a times, I see Bengal's face.

Note: translated from Bengali. Original work by poet and singer Protul Mokhopadhyay

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