Monday, March 27, 2023

Memories (2023 March)


Memories (2023 March)

Our lives are passing, as our seasons are,
With each of us a leaf that buds, unfolds
And feels the touch that comes to birth with life—
With light and shade and all that life provides—
Until it wilts and then is blown away. 

And yet we leaves can touch and even talk
And feel the bonds that form and then sustain.
And even when the winds have swept away
The ones we knew and loved, they still remain
With us—as echoes do—for quite a while.

******

When I have lost the ones that I have loved
And none remains to meet with me again,
Except within, in fondest memory, 
I still will smile on seeing faces then,
As one by one they rise within my mind.

And there they will remain and speak to me
As they had done when they were still alive—
And I in turn may try to speak to them,
Not knowing whether they can hear my words, 
Until they either fade—or I depart.

2023 March 26th, Sun.
Berkeley, California

Sunday, March 19, 2023

Barking Dogs

 
Barking Dogs

We’ve bred our dogs to bark, so they
Alert us; trained them to obey.
But this has made some infantile.
And humans too, we’ve made this way.

How many might the layers be
That form the full reality!
Impatiently, we skim—and judge. 
What lies beneath, we rarely see.

How easy, then, with swift surmise,
To demonize—and heroize!
Ignoring all that's intertwined
Has led us long on paths unwise.

******

There is, around us, misery—
That’s plain enough for all to see—
That’s caused by being in a rush—
Not taking time to pause—and be.

For if we did, we’d realize,
Perhaps at first with some surprise,
Our “demons” and our “heroes”, both,
Are naught but us—when stripped of lies.

We need not take the gangster’s side,
Nor cast the victim’s pleas aside.
We each should act, with full resolve,
Yet know there’s more than just a side.

****** 

To better see then, in the round,
What other ways have seers found?
I cannot say. Some delve within;
Some harken to the softest sound.

In times of peril, beings act—
But even then, there’s still the fact
That guidance comes from sight—and not 
From blind obedience to a tract.

The calls of prophets, ideologues—
Are somewhat like the calls of frogs.
So music too can touch the soul—
And yet be used to rouse the dogs.

2023 March 25th, Sat.
Berkeley, California













To Be What We Can Be

 
To Be What We Can Be

Should we wait around for leaders, so
We then become the sheep we'd like to be—
Or even dogs that bay—but still obey?

Or should we be the ones who lead the way—
As others follow, turned to hounds or sheep?
Or should we find the wisdom to refrain
From leading or, by others, being led?

******

Should we join, with glee, the surging mob—
Or like the cows and horses do, stampede?
Or should we recognize that this can lead
To things we later view with deep regret?

******

How hard it is to think and then decide
And know that we alone will bear the weight 
Of error or the lash of consequence?
It’s easier to follow than to lead—
But harder still to be what we could be.

******
The dogs, the herded cattle, horses—these
Were once as free as our ancestors were—
Until we bound and bred them to obey, 
As we have even done to full-grown men
And women. Stop. Let’s be what we can be.

2023 March 18th, Sat.
Berkeley, California
 

Sunday, March 12, 2023

Light and Shade / Darkness and Light

 
Light and Shade / Darkness and Light

Within the moonshine, cool, of night—
The heat of the noonday sun.
Along with kindness in the heart—
The cruelty and rage.

From hellfire, comes the scented breeze
That blows through paradise.
The civil and the barbarous
Are marching side by side. 

In every faith, there is the bad
Along with all the good.
On one side, dwells the darkness deep—
On the other side—the light.

In every country, you will find
The virtuous and kind—
And yet, a history that is bathed
In mayhem’s tides of blood. 

In every heart, an angel sits
And also, by its side,
A demon too, that rears and wreaks
Its malice and its wrath.

The breathing in, the breathing out,
The yin—within the yang—
Within the yin. So heat and cold
Are poles—and light and dark. 

2023 March 11, Sat.
Berkeley, California

Translated from the Bengali, 
A~dhar-Alo (Darkness and Light),
of 2019, March 10, Fri.


Thanks to John Blee for urging me
to do a translation into English. 

This resulting translation (done four years after 
the Bengali original) has a last stanza that was 
added on. It arose from discussions with 
John Blee and others about duality, etc.



Thursday, March 9, 2023

Jibon-Tori-জীবন-তরী + Translation, 2024-05-16: The Life-Canoe

The translation into English follows below the Bengali original.
---------------------------------------------------------
জীবন-তরী 

নীল সাগরে ঢেউ উঠেছে, 
ঘুমের থেকে জেগে। 
দিগন্তে যে মেঘ জমেছে, 
আসছে বাদল বেগে। 

এই জীবনের নদীর স্রোতে, 
সুধীর ধারা বহে। *
অকারণে, ব'দলে মেজাজ, 
ঘূর্ণি-পাগল হয়।

******

ঝড়ো হাওয়া, আকাশ ধূসর। 
সাগরে, আঁধার ভাসে। 
দূরে বিদ্যুৎ। বাজের ধ্বনি 
গুড়গুড়িয়ে আসে।

জীবন-তরী বিশ্ব-স্রোতের 
ফেনায়-ফাঁকে যায়।
কোথার থেকে, কিসের খোঁজে, 
কেউ জানে না, হায়! 

বুধবার, ৮ই ফেব্রুয়ারি, ২০২৩ খ্রি.
বার্ক্লি, কালিফর্নিয়া

* বহে => বয় (উচ্চারণে)
------------------------------------------------------------------
The  Life-Canoe

The waves have woken up from sleep,
Upon the sea of blue.
The clouds have massed where sea meets sky.
The storm is on its way.

Within the river of this life,
The flow is calm and smooth—
Until, we know not how or why,
The turbulence begins.

******

With stormy winds and skies of gray,
The darkness shrouds the sea.
In the distance, lightning flashes. 
Thunder roars in turn.

The life-canoe is struggling through
The surfs and clears of time.
From whither and for what, to where
Was never known to me.

Wednesday, February 8th, 2023
Translated from the Bengali on
Thursday, May 16th, 2024
Berkeley, California

Thursday, February 16, 2023

This Cannot Be a Lie


This Cannot Be a Lie

Could there perhaps be meaning still within
This world where lives are racked with misery—
Where orphans wail amidst the wreckage caused 
By “acts of gods” as well as acts of men?

It seems that much of what we once believed
Was based on dreams and flights of fantasy—
And all that matters in the end is that
Which propagates the genes—or raises yields.

And even these are simply senseless games—
With passing pleasures yielding more of pain.
And all the “noble ends” that we pursue
Are seen as futile through the wider lens. 

******

So all our knowledge will be set to naught
And all our wisdom make no difference—
As planets wheel around their stars—and these
Expend their lives in whirlpool galaxies.

******

And so the cynic in us shrugs and says,
“Why bother with the things for which we lived?
Accept what is—and what in time will be.
Let go of asking what is true—or right.”

And yet the conscience whispers to the heart
And yet the questions come again to mind—
And still, no matter what the reasons be—
We smile at insights—and at actions kind.

How fragile this—the briefly pulsing life 
Of a plant or ant or human—born to die!
And yet, and yet, how precious, touched with joy—
This chance to live—that cannot be a lie.

2023 February 16th, Thu.
Berkeley, California

Typed: Feb 18, Sat., 
on the BART trains from 
Berkeley to Dublin/Pleasanton
Posted: On the 30R bus to Livermore

Tuesday, February 7, 2023

Between

 
Between

In wintry climes, we greet the sun with joy. 
In torrid ones, we welcome cloud and rain.
So also, what for some is pleasure might
For others be instead a source of pain.

******

Our memories link us to the vanished past.
Imagination helps us look ahead.
These things have surely been among our strengths,
But might at times be maladies instead.

So recollection may console, inform,
Anticipation clear the murk ahead,
But misery, when relived, prolongs the pain—
And anxious thoughts may fill our minds with dread.

To live within the present time is best,
As that is really all we have at hand. 
And yet, the future and the past are bridged
By this—the passing now upon the strand.

****** 

One by one, the stars appear within
The dark that spreads across the sky at night.
Between the cold and fire, we live and die—
Between the past and future, darkness, light.

2023 February 6th, Mon.
Berkeley, California