Sunil Gangopadhyay

Not in my dream,
in my heart, Neera leaning against the door of a hut
stretched out a hand and said, “Come”.
And since then, I have been roaming the fields,
My forehead sizzling from the blazing heat,
My body drenched in pouring rains
The clouds thundering like my uncle’s chiding, frightening me--
Let my slippers get torn, my feet-–pierced by thorns
nothing matters any more.
I can only hear the melody of the four alphabets, like a music from the heavens,
All doors of this world are opening wide,
the early morning light from the dense woods is saying “Come”,
the fountain that was born this moment is saying, ”Come”,
the peaceful silence of the midnight sky is saying, “Come”,
not only in nature, not only in my heart, even the body is saying, “Come”
the nectar from the lips, the warmth of the nipples,
the beauty of the vagina is beckoning me,
much later, much deeper, where time stays merged with an eternal void,
even from there I can hear that call, "Come"
its echo ringing with every farewell of a lifetime.