Shakti Chattopadhay poems

Shakti Chattopadhay(25 November 1933 - 23 March 1995 / Baharu, 24 Parganas / India)

Abani, Are You Home?

- by Shakti Chattopadhay 2

Abani, are you home?

The neighbourhood lies in sleep with doors closed
But I keep hearing the night knocking at my door,
'Abani, are you home? '

Here it rains all the twelve months
Here the clouds roam like cows
Here the eager green grass
closes in on the door,
'Abani, are you home? '

In my heart, half-dissolved, long-traveled
I fall asleep within pain
Suddenly I hear the night knocking at my door,
'Abani, are you home? '

I Can Go, But Why Shall I?

- by Shakti Chattopadhay 1

I think, I will rather turn back
So long,
I have smeared so much soot in my hands
Never thought of you as you are -

Now, when I stand by the gorge at night,
The moon beckons, come on over -
Now, when I stand mesmerized by the levee,
The pyre logs call, 'come, c'mon over! '

I can go,
I can go in any direction
But why shall I go?

Got to kiss a long one to my kid
Will go,
But not right now
I will take you along as well
Won't go alone before time.

[Translated by Arindam Basu]