Three Songs: Kazi Nazrul Islam

Tumi jokhon eshechile

I was still sleeping when you came,
when you sought, flowers were yet to bloom.
When my skies darkened,
dawn broke at your end.
A bright youth, when you came,
my mind was yet to mellow;
the window was closed,
when the full moon peeped.
Now in a dark room, I keep awake alone—
when will you come again, the moon?
Nowadays I cannot sleep,
flowers have bloomed in the garden,
and with the garland you left,
I've knotted my splendid plait.
I was still sleeping when you came . . . 

Kaveri nadir jole kego balika

Who are you, O damsel, in Kaveri waters
Absentmindedly floating magnolias and jasmines?
Languidly coming to bathe in the morning,
She plays the pitcher with bangles;
The wind plays with flowers in her plaits. 
The sun rises in the horizon,
The water implores empathy,
By the bank of the Jhelum river,
The angel looks for you,
The dark beauty of Karnataka. 

Rohi rohi keno shey mukh pore mone

Over and over why does the face I ignored
Heartlessly and pointlessly come to my mind?
In a forlorn summer noon,
The mind craves to fly far away.
In the guise of a beggar, eyes wet with tears,
He aroused empathy in the woods—
His heart had thirst, my pitcher had water. 
Failing to get water, the thirsty singing bird
Fell down fast at the early morn. 
I scattered flowers of his garland on dust
But can't let slip the agony from memory. 
Why does the one whom I didn't own forever
Weep furtively in deep anguish from heart. 
Translated by Mohammad Shafiqul Islam.

Mohammad Shafiqul Islam, a poet, translator, and academic, is Professor in the Department of English, Shahjalal University of Science and Technology, Sylhet. His third collection of poetry, On the Other Side of Silence, is forthcoming.