My Stella -No -45 Poem by Prabir Gayen

My stella - 45

- -New life-

My song has no rhythm,
My life has no form,
This is the time that snitches me from me.

Time has gone and I am otiose now.
The breeze blows and I am firm,
Though stillness is gone in the dead past.

Silent and feeble, shaky and limp is my soul.
The sun rise and sundown and moving with it is my life.
I am a stone rolling on, with tide and season.

The native grasses, aged palm trees and uneven course, anterior place and prefecture,
and my love boyish and sluggish all are reflexion of my dead self.

Dreamful though the past was hurtful, a dogged imitation of love that bore no fruit.
It was the passion and speculation blusterous and obstreperous .
I dreamt thee in the painful perplexed mind
and carried loads of churlish misery and opprobrious distress.

Life was happy and wayward, lascivious for lack of erudition,
It was moving round and round with mercurial mind with no center at all.
Living was like a kind of humbug.

Now in calm and serene mind passion is subdued
and years of suffering lost its awe and honour.
Imitation of dilatory heart is gone,
Shabby and filthy circumambient diminishes with fresh shower of my being, my stella.
This is life that heaven approves and thou art my love that divine is hurry to dawn in both of us.