Excerpt from the English translation of Bidrohi (The Rebel) by Kazi Nazrul Islam
I am the deep notes from a bamboo flute of a poet pedestrian.
I am the great summer thirst, I am the blazing Sun’s furies
I am the murmuring desert spring-
I am the chiaroscuro of an oasis.
I rush forth as a crazy with bursting laughter
Oh! I know myself today, all the barriers are broken forever.
……………………………………..
A song from ‘The lover of God’ by Rabindranath Tagore
Listen, can you hear it?
His bamboo flute speaks
the pure language of love.
The moon enlightens the trees,
the path, the sinuous Yamuna.
Oblivious of the jasmine’s scent
I stagger around,
dishevelled heart bereft of modesty,
eyes wet with nerves and delight.
Tell me, dear friend, say it aloud:
is he not my own Dark Lord Syama?
Is it not my name his flute pours
into the empty evening?
……………………………………
A cuckoo cries,
and through a thicket of bamboo
the late moon shines
- Basho
……………………………
Wrapping dumplings in
bamboo leaves, with one finger
she tidies her hair
- Basho
……………………………
The warbler sings
among new shoots of bamboo
of coming old age
-Basho
……………………………
My spring is just this:
a single bamboo shoot
a willow branch
-Issa
……………………………
Two live as one
One live as two
Two live as three
Under the barn
Under the boo
Under the bamboo tree.
T. S. ELIOT
……………………………
