This Earth Immortal

(Translated by the writer from the original in Bengali)

I

This one thing remember, Dear! it is not this Earth that grows old–ah! no, it is not the Earth–
It is we–thou and I, Naba and Gaba, uncle Mahesh and aunt Khanto–who turn grey with years,
It is thou and I and uncle Mahesh whose teeth become decayed and shaky and fall,
Whose hairs become white, loosen and drop,
On whose bodies, in every pore, Death comes and takes his abode-
No Voronoff with all the monkey-glands at his command can keep that scythed messenger for ever at bay–
It is not the Earth that grows old–oh! no, it is not this Earth!

II

This Earth has no age, Dear! nor such sorrows as thou and I and uncle Mahesh feel in our decaying years,
Her songs and laughters, charms and smiles are ever fresh, ever alluring, knowing no ennui, no fatigue, nor dullness grey,
And no peace and tranquillity is her mission–ah! no, not the peace and tranquillity of our greying years.
Since the days of King Mandhata¹ whose date and deeds even the long memory of History does not reach,
The earth is coming–coming–coming with all the new and newer tales of history piled on her fair shoulders high,
And yet her is not bent for her charms withered,
Life’s eternal secret flows unhindered through all her limbs for ever and ever.
The Earth has no age, Dear! nor such sorrows as our decaying years.

III

The Earth has no age, Dear! nor decay, nor death,
As if her body is packed with all the thyroid glands of Eternal Life, so her smiles and laughters, jokes and jests never get stale as some hot drink kept overnight–
Her ever-flowing life-blood is in eternal adolescence – in never ending flow–
So again and again the autumn² comes with its songs and smiles, Again and again the spring-tide brings the wealth of flowers and foliage,
Again and again new clustering clouds in rainy season rumble and send their message of joy and expectation to the parched and thirsty earth below –
But a single autumn is our portion,
And a single spring-tide, alas! tires us out in our life’s transitory play.

IV

The time for our exit for our exit comes, Dear! For thee and me and uncle Mahesh,
But the Earth’s stage never remains empty for a moment’s space;
The uncle and aunt depart, but lo! the nephews and nieces are waiting, ready at the bend of the road.
With the departure of Mahesh and Khanto,
Ramen and Rama, Robin and Reba enter and occupy the empty stage,
With the same joyous smile on their lips and the same merriment in their eyes,
And with the fresh strains of a new flute, a fresh and new play begins with all its pomp and pageant–
While at the very moment Death’s messenger knocks for the uncles and aunts at the exit-door!

V

The Earth smiles again, Dear! just as she did in former days,
When thou and I got glimpses of Heaven in the glances of Subha and Bibha’s bashful eyes.
The earth smiles again and becomes as festive as in our time,
Without a touch of sorrow or regret for those who depart for climes unknown;
Again the smile plays about the youthful lips and light dances in the youthful eyes,
And again the roses and jasmines bloom in the as they did in our own spring-tide!

VI

The cuckoos sing again, Dear! in the same sweet melodious notes as they did in former time,
Bokul ³and Beta, Asok and Champak again blossom forth in the same sweet fragrance in Earth’s new fresh love.
The moon smiles the same sweet smile,
Light roving clouds roam about in the autumn-sky as they did in other days,
And the same sweet and secret message doth pass from youthful eyes to other youthful eyes,
And sweetness gathers again in young fresh hearts–
No tears are shed for thee and me and uncles and aunts who depart in deep despair!

VII

The swarming bees hum again, Dear! in the freshly blossomed mango-groves in a newer spring,
The tiny Khanjans ⁴dance with their flicking tails,
And the Doels pour forth their sweet notes.
The young fellows again go crazy with laughter and song,
And again in the eyes of the young maidens bashfulness lays the sweet snare as of old,
And they, the maidens, again weave their dream-garlands for the fairy prince in their solitary couch, of a rainy night,
Again new hopes and new songs bring new joy and new light in a dream land new!

VIII

So this one thing remember, Dear! it is not this Earth that grows old–ah! no, it is not this Earth
It is we–thou and I, Naba and Gaba, uncle Mahesh and aunt Khanto–who turn grey with years–
It is thou and I and uncle Mahesh whose teeth become decayed and shaky and fall,
Whose hairs become white and loosen and drop–
But again at the very core of the Earth is set a stage for newer hopes and fresher songs,–
It is thou and I who round off, Dear! and not the Earth; she wheels forward and goes on for ever in ever-new strains and ever-new songs

¹ A famous king in ancient India.
² Autumn in Bengal has got different associations from an English autumn.
³ Names of Indian flowers.
⁴ Little birds in Bengal.