Saintliness and Sin

   

Saintliness and Sin

 

Is it possible, within the city's

Bustle, to be quiet—

To walk or sit in peace amidst

The clamor of the riot?

 

I had often tried to do this, tried to

Slow from moving fast—

To pause and breathe and gather in—

Although this didn’t last.

 

And though one thing or other

Would come and prick my bubble,

If I’d ever stalled within this,

I could be in bigger trouble.

 

To disengage from madnesses

Of fear or scorn or rage

Invites, alas, no kindnesses

From those who still engage. 

  

Within a mass hysteria,

As in a mad stampede,

Whoever tries to slow or stop

Is trampled well indeed!

  

******

 

There’s the yin within the yang and there's

The yang within the yin.

So day and night can alternate

And saintliness and sin.

 

And so I laugh when fit to cry

And weep as I am smiling.

I venture out in stormy rain

And run in when it’s shining.

 

I listen to our “enemies”,

I question all our wars

And hum my verse to Venus when

The others sing to Mars.

 

I see the sides to everything

As often as I can.

I see the Muslim in the Jew,

The woman in the man.

 

But still I cannot slow enough,

Within the rush we’re in,

To be at peace as wars abound—

Be clear amidst the sin.

 

2025 Nov. 13, Thu.

(4th, 5th, & last 2 quatrains, Nov. 19)

Berkeley, California

 

Yin and Yang-2024 July

 .
Yin and Yang (2024 July)
.
The predator attacks the prey,
The parasite, the host—
And sea and land and air in turn
Convulse and take their tolls.
.
We humans feast on plants and beasts
And torture both of these.
The facts of life on Planet Earth
Were not designed to please.
.
****** 
.
And yet, there still is happiness
And pleasure mixed with pain,
And moments, both, of utter grief
And purest joy and bliss.
.
So smiles and laughter alternate
With worries, frowns and tears;
So hunger stokes the appetite,
As distance strengthens bonds.
.
******
.
So sorrows deepen shallow minds, 
And pleasures lull awareness. 
Yet age may not let wisdom in,
And tyrants live the longest.
.
We turn from things unpleasant, so
This lets those fester more.
There’s good and bad in all of us.
Cartoons precede the gore.
.
****** 
.
And yet there still are thoughtful men
And women in the world,
And children try to comfort those
That they perceive as hurt.
.
And parents labor hard to feed
And rear their little broods,
And some who're aged or ailing still
Are cared for in their turns. 
.
******
.
The greens of trees appear serene;
The blues of skies delight.
The yellow blooms that dance in winds
Can turn our moods to bright.
.
And see, amidst the massacres
And cruelties and woes,
The light of caring still persists
As courage fights its foes.
.
****** 
.
The yang within the yin—and deep
Within the yin, the yang.
So good and evil intertwine,
As light and darkness do.
.
We can choose to turn to darkness
And to speed the spread of hate—
Or turn towards the light, before 
That turning comes too late.
.
2024 July 17th, Wed.
Berkeley, California
.

Khel-খেল-2024-05-27

 .
খেল
.
বিষের থেকে মধু আসে, 
মধুর থেকে বিষ। 
আঁধার রাতে আলো ভাসে, 
দিনদুপুরে, নিশি। 
.

****** 

.
সুখের দিনে কান্না আসে, 
দুখের মাঝে হাসি। 
প্রিয় আশার মরণ দেখেও, 
চিত্তে বাজে বাঁশি। 
.
এক পা এগোয়ে, দু’ পা পেছোয়ে। 
এইতো ঝুঁকির খেল। 
ধূর্তের পাতে সুখ-দৌলত, 
সাধুর ভাগ্যে জেল। 
.

****** 

.
অবহেলার মরুতে, যত্নের শিশির।
ক্রূরতার মাঝে দয়া। 
নিরাশার রাতে, মুক্তির গীতি। 
তাতেই পীড়ন সহা।
.
সোমবার ২৭ মে, ২০২৪ খ্রি.  
বার্ক্লি, কালিফোর্নিয়া 
.

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.

আঁধার আলো (A~dhar-Alo)

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.

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

A~dhar alo-আঁধার আলো

আঁধার আলো

শীতল রাতের চাঁদের আলোয়, 
দুপুর বেলার রোদ।
বুকে যেমন দয়া আছে, 
তেমনি আছে ক্রোধ।
 
জাহান্নম আর নরক থেকে, 
স্বর্গের হাওয়া আসে। 
সভ্যতা আর বর্বরতা 
চলছে পাশে পাশে।
 
সব ধর্মে খারাপ আছে, 
সব ধর্মে ভালো। 
একদিকে, সেই অন্ধকার।
আরেক দিকে আলো।
 
প্রতি দেশে পাবে খুঁজে 
কত খাঁটি গুণী। 
সেই দেশেরই ইতিহাসে, 
রক্ত, খুনাখুনি।
 
পরী ফেরেশতা আছে বসে,  
সব মানুষের বুকে। 
তারি পাশে রাক্ষস আছে, 
হিংসের ওপর ঝুঁকে।
 
রবিবার, ১০ মার্চ, ২০১৯ খ্রি 
ব্রুক্লিন, নিউ ইয়র্ক

Saint or Sinner?

Saint or Sinner?

Show us a sinner or show us a saint,
And we’ll find, in the first one, an aspect of worth,
And then, in the second, as surely, a taint—
For such are the natures of beings on Earth.

Let's open the corrals we use to constrain
The field of our fellows to friends and to foes,
And know—that these boxes we try to maintain
May often be nests that can nurture our woes.

Let's value a friendship, beware of a foe,
Yet open a passage where beings may flow,
For such are their natures, not solid, but more
Of a fluid—at times, like the breezes that blow.

So is he a “saint” or is he a “sinner”?
Or if we're like Trump, and addicted to sin,
Then is he a “loser” or is he a “winner”?
Could sinners be saints, just as losers might win?

And is she a blessing or is she a pain,
Or is she a bit of them both?  It is time
That we leave you to think, as we end this refrain
That we've couched, for your pleasure, in meter and rhyme.

2017 September 25th Mon.
(2nd-to-last stanza and minor edits added October 1st, Sun.)

The Drums of War

 
The Drums of War

Can those, who make the music, slaughter too?
Can he, who wrote the verses, drop the bomb?
It seems it cannot be—and yet it is.
Our monsters swim beneath our waves of bliss.

At heaven’s gates, we find the demon-guard.
The beauty and the beast are always one.
We copulate—and practice martial arts.
The drums of war recall our mothers’ hearts.

How tender was the hand that struck the blow!
How swift, the passing of the ancient rite!
We cling to comforts as we hold to hopes.
How harsh, the laughter as we're made the dopes!

The “times of peace” can match the times of war
In horrors that will never come to light.
So virtuous men and women earn that wage
That Mammon serves to serfs in every age.
 
The ones, who seem to us the sanest, wreak
Yet greater havoc than the maddest men.
We have, upon this planet, just a while.
Amidst the mayhem, is there time to smile?

We sing our songs, as flutes and zithers play.
We beat upon the drums; we sway and dance.
But listen—there’s a music singing this:
“We heeded duty—and we savored bliss.”

We march to battles, led by wailing pipes.
And then, amidst the dissonance of war
Or caught within the madness of our jobs,
We yearn for peace—with every pulse that throbs.

But who can slip the knot that strangles us?
The more we try, the tighter is it grip.
We’ve had no peace, and hear, while still in pain—
The drums of war are beating yet again.
 
2017 August 4th, Fri.
New York, New York