“To Her Steady Lover - Poem by Jibanananda Das There is no meaning in living—I don't say this. There is meaning for some, may be for all—may be a perfect meaning. Yet I hear the white sound of wind-driven birds In the water of the distant seas beneath the burning summer sun. The candle burns slowly, very slowly, on my table; The books of intellect are more still—unwavering— lost in meditation; Yet when you go out on to the streets or even while sitting by the window side Will you sense the frenzied dance of violent waters; Right beside that a book of your cheeks; no more like a lantern, Perhaps like a conch-shell lying on the beach as if ocean's father It is also a music by his own merit—like Nature: caustic—lovable—finally like the most favourite entity. So I get the taste of expansive wind in the airing of maddening grievances; Otherwise in the mind's forest the python coils up around the doe: I feel the pitiable hint of a life like that in the Sceptre of protest. Some glacier-cold still flock of Cormorants will realize my words; When the electric-compass of life will cease They will eat up snow-grey sleep like polar seas in endless grasp.” LoveFaithNatureBeautyJealousyLover Book:Selected poems Source: Selected poems
“It has been a thousand years since I started trekking the earth A huge travel in night’s darkness from the Ceylonese waters to the Malayan sea I have been there too: the fading world of Vimbisara and Asoka Even further—the forgotten city of Vidarva, Today I am a weary soul although the ocean of life around continues to foam, Except for a few soothing moments with Natore’s Banalata Sen. Her hair as if the dark night of long lost Vidisha, Her face reminiscent of the fine works of Sravasti, When I saw her in the shadow it seemed as if a ship-wrecked mariner in a far away sea has spotted a cinnamon island lined with greenish grass. “Where had you been lost all these days? ” yes, she demanded of me, Natore’s Banalata Sen raising her eyes of profound refuge. At the day’s end evening crawls in like the sound of dews, The kite flaps off the smell of sun from its wings. When all colours take leave from the world except for the flicker of the hovering fireflies The manuscript is ready with tales to be told All birds come home, rivers too, All transactions of the day being over Nothing remains but darkness to sit face to face with Banalata Sen.” LoveDeathNatureBeautyBengal Book:Banalta Sen Source: Banalta Sen
“I Have Seen Bengal’s Face - Poem by Jibanananda Das Autoplay next video I have seen Bengal’s face, that is why I do not seek Beauty of the earth any more: I wake up in the dark And see the dawn’s magpie-robin perched under the parasol-like huge leaf Of the fig tree – on all sides I see mounds of leaves of Black plum – banyan – jackfruit – oak – pipal lying still; Their shadows fall on the spurge bushes on zedoary clumps; Who knows when Chand near Champa from his madhukar boat Saw such oaks – banyans – gamboge’s blue shades Bengal’s beauty incomparable. Behula too someday floating on raft on Gangur’s water – When the fullmoon of the tenebrous twelfth night died on the river’s shoal – Saw countless pipals and banyans beside the golden corn, Alas, heard the tender songs of shama – and one day going to Amara. When she danced like a torn wagtail in Indra’s court Bengal’s river field, wild violets wept at her feet like anklet bells.” NatureBeautyBengalLove Nature Book:Bengal the Beautiful Source: Bengal the Beautiful
“मैंने देखा है बंगाल का चेहरा इसलिए पृथ्वी का रूप देखने कहीं नहीं जाता, अँधेरे में जगे गूलर के पेड़ तकता हूँ, छाते जैसे बड़े पत्तों के नीचे बैठा हुआ है भोर का दयोल पक्षी-चारों ओर देखता हूँ पल्लवों का स्तूप जामुन, बरगद, कटहल, सेमल, पीपल साधे हुए हैं चुप्पी। नागफनी का छाया बलुआही झाड़ों पर पड़ रही है मधुकर(सौदागर, सती बेहुला की कथा का पात्र) के नाव से न जाने कब चाँद, चम्पा के पास आ गया है ऐसे ही सेमल, बरगद और ताड़ की नीली छाया से भरा पूरा है बगाल का अप्रतिम रूप। हाय, बेहुला ने भी देखा था एक दिन गंगा में नाव से नदी किनारे कृष्ण द्वादशी की चाँदनी में सुनहले धान के पास हज़ारों पीपल, बरगद वट में मन्द स्वर में खंजनी की तरह इन्द्रसभा में श्यामा(लोक संगीत) के कोमल गीत सुने थे, बंगाल के नदी कगार ने खेत मैदान पर घुँघरू की तरह रोये थे उसके पाँव।” NatureBeautyBengalDeath Love Book:Bengal the Beautiful Source: Bengal the Beautiful