Short Poems

Taut with longing
You must become
The god you sought—
The only one

যেখানেই যাই আমি সেখানেই রাত!
স্টেডিয়ামে খোলা আকাশের নিচে রেস্তোরাঁয়
অসীমা যেখানে তার অত নীল চোখের ভিতর
ধরেছে নিটোল দিন নিটোল দুপুর
সেখানে গেলেও তবু আমার কেবলই রাত
আমার কেবলই শুধু রাত হয়ে যায়!

Cease, thou bright God of Poetry and Light,
To urge relentless Daphne's rapid Flight!
Think on th' inconstant Source from whence she came,
Well might she run, whose Parent was a Stream!

Now that I have
arrived at God's gate
I am totally free of fate

Came of old to houses lonely
Men with wings, but did not show them:
Angels come to our house, only,
For their wings, they do not know them!

We both are mortal; but thou, frailer creature,
May'st die, like me, by chance, but not by nature.

No, Music, thou art not the 'food of Love.'
Unless Love feeds upon its own sweet self,
Till it becomes all Music murmurs of.

And that I walk thus proudly crowned withal
Is that 'tis my distinction; if I fall,
I shall not weep out of the vital day,
To-morrow dust, nor wear a dull decay.

And like a dying lady, lean and pale,
Who totters forth, wrapp'd in a gauzy veil,
Out of her chamber, led by the insane
And feeble wanderings of her fading brain,
The moon arose up in the murky East,