This is an attempt to translate a beautiful poem written in Bengali by my childhood friend and life partner, Lopamudra...
Candles walk in…arrayed in the darkness
Dumb, deadened, yet aflame in dull habit;
Defeat is not the fire, a social identity,
Yet, the faith is not a piece for all.
The nature is all set to be bankrupt,
Why still is such intense search for lies?
The debt has outgrown repaying strength of life.
In this yellow wilted ancient age,
Sins appear, one by one…candles in hand
Alike baby snakes; venom trickles down the wretched spine,
The mighty curled snake of revelation
Wakes up from a deep slumber in faint light of candles.
