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Farewell :A Ballad
© Suniti Debnath
Yes! it's not my profession
Yes! it's me, my passion!
All the dreams sublimed
Ah! then where and for why?
Yes, the stormy wind just singing on,
The bright starry sky veiled by screen of cloud,
Whispering crying so coldly and painfully!
Darkness becomes furious —
Let it be cruel and unkind,
The trees of the valley
Lowering heads spreading hands
Bestowed farewell to me
And my poems of serenity,
Anger, dream too eternal cry
Of those who were suppressed for silly centuries passed and coming onwards .
None to look after me nor my poems of my soul
Alone I am on the valley 's hilly path.
And now flowers in deep pathos
Dropping tears silently,
The tiny cute Nightingales
Stopped sweet tunes of flute surprisingly .
Became blunt!
And from eighteenth century
Till now Lucy Gray the little one
Searching her father in Deathful
Darkness of frozen frosty storm
Across the fearful canvas of meadows :
With her deemed lantern alone
With her deemed lantern alone!
And me too alone in the graveyards
Vast so spreading with inscriptions or not
Hard stones pale looking bluntly
With stony faces .
The old earth
Is full of Gorostans here and there
Of those heroes fought for hankering mingled with the
Dream of a fantastic noble world,
But really in vain and frustrated!!
But really in vain and frustrated!
They are sleeping now here
With unfulfilled dreams forever
On the bloody beds of gorostans
Wind Whispers calm cold griefy
Melted stones of graveyards
Remains crazy, blunt and speechless.
Searching gorostans of them
Who struggled for lives to establish era of dreams,
Days for millions hunger stricken
Uncrowned, unsung, chained
With tourchere long a bit
Now sleeping with slept souls
In bitter agony and pathos.
Freedom less unhappy souls
Chained creature of humane
Felt only life as struggle and
Polished noble sacrifice.
And searching their gorostans
I like to spread only the flowers
The flowers of tears endless
Upon those .
And sing the noble ballad of worship
With my poor but pure poems ! With my poor but pure poems!
Ah! Now that day has arrived
My co - mates, comrades, friends
With downward faces
Keeping tightened leaps
Not to utter a single word
Words of griefs nor of delights
And yes! it's time perfect divine!
Uttering so loud so loud
Cracking centuries' silence
And confess: She is searching
Her father yet —
I am searching too the end
I am searching yet the end :
My noble friends, now let me say
Calmly quietly ' Best Love! Bye! '
Kajori,
20 June, 2015
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