Tonight this ancient heart of mine again realises
We’ll never meet – two of us – in rain
And rejoice the drunkenness of our love
In the hours of tumult, in the solitary plain.
Vagabond breeze strolls past my window and stops.
Does it hear my ragged and forlorn whimpers
Despite the rock wall I built to shield my dreams
Perchance any infinite eye embraces it and desires?
O vagrant heart of mine, mourn not at twilight,
Your inviolate sorrows not improvise
‘Cause had we met in rain, all might end in fire
Swallowing everything, not to let us again rise.
Tonight, yet, my wandering fantasies walk on dying dew
In the widening hollow of numb desires, as I fall
In solitude, drifting in darkness of the empty station
Wondering: is life larger than the soul?
[Dhaka, January 12, 2016]