The
morning sun shone on the autumn field
Making
it glitter like gold.
The
village bride stood by the bank of the tank.
Lending
a rare enchantment to the scene.
Soft
sunlight streamed down on the meadows
And
filled them with precious wealth,
As
the brown village belle
Left behind, by the village tank,
The
sweet fragrance of her tender charm.
I
looked up at the fields
And
unalloyed joy filled my heart.
I
looked up at the bathing ghat
And
my eyes lit up
with an eager expectancy.
Riding
on the wings of sunlight
Memory
came to her to from the past
floating with the wind,
And
rubbed on her eye lids
The
fine golden dust of the fields.
Slowly
coming to the ghat with weary steps
She
swiftly glanced all around
Mingling
the tenderness of her dark eyes
With
the dust at her feet.
I
saw the happiness of gold
in the fields,
And
as I came to the ghat
my eyes shone with an eager expectancy.
This
gold was familiar to me.
This
dream I had seen at the sharp point
of the plough.
This
quite enchantment lived
in my lonely thatched hut.
Someone
scattered the gold of my mind
And
the magic of my eyes
Into
the raining sunlight
And
over the sprawling meadows
and the ghat.
I
had recognized her face in field.
Now
at the ghat I saw her
Waiting
for me with an eager expectancy.
Translated by Kabir Choudhury
Habibur
Rahman
(1926—1976)