Woeful darkness of night

It is my vain attempt to present transliteration of another Tagore’s masterpiece, “Dukkher Andhar Ratri”. This one followed by his last poem, “Tomar Shristir Path”, was dictated by bed-ridden Rabindranath during the last fortnight of his life. He could, however, edit the first one only. In that way, it was his last edited poetic composition. I have no dream even to expect that my words would either hold literary brilliance of the Great Poet or would it ever touch those fine threads of philosophy contained in the original, yet I would love to share it here with friends who are unable to access it in Bengali.

So often has woeful darkness of night
Had its sojourns to my door;
I stole a few glimpses of its sole rapier
Shining in buried beams of ruses;
Those perverted pretences of anguish,
And bizarre gestures of terror were only
The prelude to its feints in utter darkness.

Ever so I relied upon its wily mask of fright,
It only offered some hollow defeats;
This weird game of loss or win—
Sheer delusions of life, and
Of each steps entangled in horror
Ever since the days of infancy and beyond—
Remained satiated in quirks of grief;
And, betrayed animated streaks of dread—
A complete art by the Death deftly diffused upon the darkness.