Friday, August 23, 2013

In Bensonhurst Park (Benso`nharst' Parke)

In Bensonhurst Park

An afternoon in August, with the temperature still high –
And yet, in the slanting light, a sign that fall will soon be here...
We had so little rain, the trees were parched throughout July,
But now, with rainy nights, those trees, in fresh-washed greens, appear.

The air is clean, the sky is blue, with cirrus high above.
The greens of trees are lit by soft and slanting golden sun.
So summer ends and autumn nears – with time enough for love,
But not for those like us, who spend their lifetimes on the run.

I've walked the city streets to sit awhile amidst the green,
To watch the elders play at chess and chat beneath the trees,
To see the mothers with their kids, to breathe awhile, serene.
With gratitude for all a slave, for a precious instant, frees.

I wonder who designed this park, who built the promenade,
The circle green where ball hits bat, the courts where children play,
Who planted then the stately trees that cast their dappled shade,
Who tended saplings as they grew, who tends to all today...

I know the answers may be found, by those who persevere,
But I shall leave that work to you, and idly sit awhile.
I'll watch the little parrots wheel, as fall is drawing near...
In winter, when they all have left, remembering them, I'll smile...

2013 August 23rd, Fri. afternoon,
by the flagpole at the upper level of Bensonhurst Park,
near Cropsey Avenue & 21st Avenue,
Bensonhurst, Brooklyn

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Benso`nharst' Parke

Grixxer xexe, O`gast-maxe, xo`horer fut'path marie,
xobuj parke exe boxechi ami, haoae jibon jurie.
Julair go`rome ekhankar gachgulo xukie gechilo prae.
Aj dekhi, rater brixt'ite snan kore darie ache, xobuj, xundor.

Nil akaxe, u~cute, kichu megh, aloe ujjo`l.
Xonali-rodre-choa xobuj patagulo dulche haoae.
Kichu din bade, din chot'o ho`be, pata xukie porbe to`khon.
Xuru ho`be abar sromiker o`xex khat'ni, pagol chot'a-chut'i.

Aj exechi ei parke, boxe dekchi xo`bar axa-jaoa.
Bur'ora, gacher chaeae, bencite boxe daba khelche.
Bolche, ko`to kichu go`lpo, purono dexer ko`tha...
Maera, baccader pre`m t'hele ber'ieche bikele...

E-xo`ber jonno, ei modhur alo-haoa-chaya pe-e,
krito`ggo ami.  Je`no muhurter khalax, bondir...
Bhabi – kar matha theke jonmechilo ei parkt'a,
kar khat'nir dorun toiri, ke koreche de`kha-xona?

E-xo`ber uttor ache jani – khujle paoa jabe.
Aj ami, ekhane aloxe boxe, tomader ei prosnogulo dilam.
Dekhchi – chot't'o t'ia-pakhir do`l, akaxe anonde ghurche...
Xit ele cole jabe ora – roibe to`be, ei manuxer mone...

bikel-be`la, Xukrubar, 23-e O`gast, 2013 kri.
Bensonharst Parker opor to`lae, fle`g-poler paxe,
Kro`psi e`bheniu ar 21-e e`bhiniur kache,
Benso`nharst', Bruklin

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