1. Moon Song
(Chander gaye chand legechhe)
A moon merging with another moon—
What are we to make of this?
A mother in her daughter's womb, what
Do they call that genesis?
There was this girl but six months old,
At nine months she carried, we're told,
Had three kids at eleven months, which one
Of themearns a fakir's bliss?
There's a house that has no door,
A man too, that has no word,
Who would give him food and who'd
Lit the evening lamp of his?
To the fakirs Lalon hums:
A son dies if he's touched by mom—
One that knows not what it means,
Knows not what a fakir is.
2. The Moon, Clandestine
(Chand ache chande ghera)
Moon wrapped in moon, oh, how
Should you hope to trap it now?
Countless moons emanate bliss,
A fugitive moon in their midst—
And as soon as I find, it renders my eyes blind
With its radiant blitz.
Moon-fruit on Beauty's tree—
One can almost see its random glee…
If to moon-bazar you go, beware that vertigo
Splashes of moonlight can cause thee.
There's that magic city—“Alek” is its name,
Where sun sets at night, daytime you'll need a lamp,
And those that know about it are the clear-sighted,
Lalon says, they've viewed the lunar realm.
3. The Brightest Moon
(Onek bhagyer phole she chandkeu dekhite pay)
This Moon can be glimpsed
By only the luckiest eyes,
Never does it wane,
As bright on both sides.
In the world in which it shines
Day with Night entwines—
Brighter than a million moons,
Alighting endless skies.
A drop of water in an ocean,
In its midst a golden mountain,
In a speck this unknown moon
Has built its paradise.
Once viewed, you have no pain,
Once touched, you aren't the same
Any more; oh, such a moon
How could Lalon surmise…
4. The Foursome Moon
(charti chondro bhaber bhubone)
In the world of ideas
There rises a fourfold moon.
Only one of its faces is self-effulgent,
Everybody sees that one.
One who's deciphered this
His strength of faith is limitless.
He'd trap the moon at will,
The very one that can't be known.
Four moons in a single lunar mass
With a forever changing face.
He who peeps into the antechamber
Will spot the secret fount.
If for the manna-moon you thirst
The toxic moon must needs be dealt with first.
In every coitus, Siraj Sai says, Thus
There's both potion and poison.
Subrata Augustine Gomes is a poet and a translator.