Even By Making Myself Empty
Origin: Pranjit Bora
Translated by Dr. Birinchi Kumar Das
Every grey evening when she finishes her prayer
In her moist eyes
In her crumpled chador
Everywhere I see myself growing full
The echo of her prayer sinks in my soul
Like waves in the bosom of the sea
From the pine tree rooted in her heart
Drops on my heart the green foliage of faith
On my eyes and face her fragrant air of reliance
Every evening like a skilled artist
She sows in me seedlings of courage and trust
She is my mother in seven lives
If I could make her full even by making myself empty!

0 Comments