Tag: Hemonto

Autumn 

I see your beauteous form
        In this autumnal dawn,
Oh! Mother Bengal, your green figure
          Is resplendent with radiance. 

The river cannot be contained in its bed. 
         The fields are overflowing with paddy. 
Robins chant and koels sing 
        In your graceful gardens.
Amidst this dawn of sharat,
        O Mother, you stand poised. 

Mother, the breeze chimes
       An auspicious onset —
Grains of new rice crops
        Fill homes with festivities.
You have no respite anymore.
        Sheafs of paddy move in bulk
Along rural paths wafting
          Their perfume in the draft. 
Mother, the zephyr sends you
          An intimation of the seasonal onset. 

The skies paint clouds 
      to welcome the season. 
Dewdrops have sprinkled
       Coolness on the green earth. 
The flute seems to play a melody that
        Wafts through the land, water and air.
Boats come crowding to your doorway
          From all directions. 
The sky is clear and blue. 
          The earth, soft and cool. 

The breeze starts to chill
       Refreshing tired bodies.
Every hut is filled with new hope,
         With the advent of new life. 
All over, Mother, abound events
           Organised by joyous faces. 
People grab fistfuls of happiness 
            From your overflowing granaries. 
The breeze rushes with anchals*
           Full of new life. 

Come, come, wherever you are, 
            Come running all of you —
Our Mother has opened her granary.
          Our grains are overflowing. 
Come by boat from the other bank,
           Mothers and daughters come.
Who cries in hunger under maternal care?
           Come running all of you. 
Our mother has opened her granary. 
            Our grains are overflowing. 
 
Our Mother wears a garland of shefali.
      Floral perfumes scent the earth. 
White, creamy cirrus clouds 
         Seem to stud her veil.
Crowned with a golden halo, 
       Sweet, glorious, green and resplendent, 
With feet dressed in blooms, 
        My mother stands poised. 
The whole world smiles at her illuminated
       With dewdrops, flowers and crops.


*Anchal is the loose end of a sari