Part 1
Sandhya.
by Dhan Gopal Mukerji.
_FOREWORD_
_Like "Rajani" [perhaps more than], "Sandhya" is a slender rill that has drawn its music from my Bengali which has told upon its English structure. This and many other faults of these poems are due to their unyielding adherence to spontaneity._
_"Sandhya" came then, as "Rajani" in its own way through the bed of my Bengali reflecting its sound and sense, and trying to echo back its music that descends on all with the fading twilight._
DHAN GOPAL MUKERJI.
_N. B._--_Since some of these poems were born without, and defy t.i.tles, I have refrained from forcing any on them._
SANDHYA, SONGS OF TWILIGHT
I
SYMBOLISM
Tongueless the bell!
Lute without a song!
It is not night It is G.o.d's dawn, Silence its unending song.
Over heart's valley, In the soul's night, Through pain's window Behold! His light!
On Life's Height.
No prayer, now, Though death-waves roll, Faith's candle lit, Beside it sits the soul Reading Eternity's scroll.
2
SOURCE OF SINGING
A bruised heart, A wounded soul,
A broken lute, That is all!
A sad evening, And a lone star,
Then song reddens-- Sets life's forest afire!
3
With purple shadows the mist measures the infinite sea That spreads her wave-raiment in lavender, violet, gray, and green; While with thin silver rays a lone star seeks to sound the deeps.
The breeze-wings tire of flight; The mist-threads weave a rose-fringed dusky drapery To cover the bare b.r.e.a.s.t.s of the dunes from the moon's langour-heavy eyes.
The shadows die in purple silence; Fades the one star from the sky, As the dark mist puts out the rose-red moon from its deep.
Pale gleams the lighthouse light; No warring waves break the peace of sleep tonight Nor a hungry wind shrieks in pain from the lea.
Under her heavy veil of black A languid sea sluggishly flows To some far land of forsaken dreams.
4
"O, OLD! O, NEW!"[1]
Who are you?
Why make me wait From the hour of dew Till another sunset?
Why do I look For your coming?
Listen to the weeping brook That might bring To my lonely sh.o.r.e A word from you.
Ah, nothing! not a leaf's tremor!
O, old! O, longed for new!
Who are you? I ask; Know not why I seek From day to dusk Without waking or sleep,-- No sleep! no waking!
A dreaming, a longing; Not knowing, yet seeking, For your coming waiting-- O, spring-born!
O, autumn-clad!
O, soul's new morn!
O, old! O, glad!
So glad, so young!
O, unseen, unknown, O, fugitive vision!
O, eternal moan In my heart--
O, tearful Soul of laughter, Untouched, unhurt, O, sweet! O, bitter!
My born yet unborn, Shadow not fallen O, undawning morn-- O, message unbroken.
Why, how, when?
I wait, wait for you, O embrace of earth and heaven; O, Old! O, New!
[Footnote 1: "O, Old! O, New!" is the cry of a "Poati," _e. g._, a mother's cry to her unborn child. "Poati" has no precise English synonym.]
