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Aghran by Jibanananda Das in Ananda Lal's Translation

I love this Aghran—this evening colour—the colour's emptiness 
the sun’s soft down—the sloping fields—the drab brown birds—the
     .              yellow hay 
leaf-gathering days on the grass—at gathering time all wordless, 

the paddy’s gold garb shed—he has learnt life—so in the mist always 
he feels sleepy—he’ll leave the land and go now—it’s as if he were 
not in the land already—this last sad golden Aghran brush sways 

and falls;—is erased;—as if no one will paint the fields afterwards, 
no one wants to paint—now Aghran has come and captured the earth’s 
didn’t I see blue eggs one day?—the tender straw of their nest two birds 

spread silently there;—still nests,—still eggs, —for love’s desire does 
at last and no one wants it afterwards—life gives a lot—life still 
gives us release afterwards—one or maybe half a hidden start 

or no starts—only peace—only where frost lies secretly until 
Aghran has let him out—from my mind to gather and to fulfil. 

Note—Aghran : November-December 
Translated by Ananda Lal

*Banalata Sen by Jibanananda Das, Writers Workshop


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