Neera, sometimes, it seems <br />you are more distant <br />than even the day I was born. <br />You walk alone -- <br />in the autumn-woods. <br />The rustle of leaves <br />under your tender feet, <br />fill the air! <br />The mountains, sloped like a bullock's neck <br />meet the horizon, <br />and the evening sun <br />resounding its victory-cymbals <br />sets behind those hills. <br />All these, Neera, seem more distant <br />than even the day I was born. <br /> <br />Sometimes, when I've looked at the sky, <br />I've seen a dying star. <br />I feel a shiver in my heart, <br />my eyes come down to the earth <br />and to the world all around. <br />At those times, Neera, <br />I feel a strong desire <br />to fight all that is born to die! <br />I wish to place the flag of the Heavens <br />in your almond-hued palm, <br />and tell the whole world, <br />that the ray of mystical light <br />falling on your chin, <br />shall stay arrested, forever. <br />At that moment, <br />in the distant leafstrewn woods, <br />I see your enigmatic smile! <br /> <br />You know Neera, <br />that the white pigeons that fly in the evening sky, <br />even they are obscured by darkness! <br />like the light of our eyes, <br />and like all worldly sorrows! <br />It's only the misery of man <br />that stretches beyond his lifetime. <br /> <br />[Translated from Bengali poem 'Nashbar' by Sheila Sengupta]<br /><br />Sunil Gangopadhyay<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ephemeral-9/
