Badala diner prathama Kadama ful karecho dan
Ami dite ashechi, Srabanero gan.
The first Kadamba flower
On the rainy days of Thy dower;
The song of Sravana* in turn
Is my return;
In the shades of the cloud
Tenderly its grace I shroud,
In my musical harvest
This golden yield leads the rest.
Today abounds Thy gift
Maybe at tomorrow’s defeat,
In Thy flower basket
Nothing more to be left.
Yet, while Thy amnesia will tide high
On it the boat will still ply
Every year my song will convey
Thy glory of the Sravana day.
(*Rainy month)
Note:
The temporal Kadamba flower with all its beauty at the break of the rainy season in Bengal with its magic spell on us bothers the Poet that this manifestation of Nature’s supreme beauty will be lost soon possibly beyond retrieval. So is his endeavor to capture this ineffable beauty in his song that will return to us again and again irrespective of the loss of physical identity of the Kadamba flower which he witnesses today.
