Das, Prafulla Ranjan

[ZaunköniG]

Prafulla Ranjan Das
(1881–1963) Indien


The Quest.

I stepped into the dusty thoroughfare,
Where men with weary footsteps trod the earth,
And sought the secrets of their death and birth
In heat and passion of the noon-day air!

—In life that has been lived in black despair,
Or in the splendour of the city's worth,
Where mortals moving with no joy or mirth
Have yet aspired to do, conceive, and dare!

And one above them all cried out to me,
"Alas, alas,—I gave a life's devotion,
To drag the secrets of Eternity

From objects whirling with the earth's swift motion,
And now I think I'll wander never more,
What, if those secrets waited at my door?"





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[ZaunköniG]

Refusal.

Ah, not to-night!—for thrilled yet wild with fire,
The night would whisper burning words to me,
And I should blindly search Eternity
For passion fit to crown the wild desire

To-night gives birth to!—and that passion's hire
Summoned from all the times would ever be
A bitter shame and joyless memory,
—A thing whereon would tremble Heaven's just ire!

For I would love thee only with my soul,
And build thereby a palace strong, secure,
To stand amidst the vain pomps that allure
And leave but corpses as they onward roll!
Oh, then, at last when Death demands its toll,
There's something to remember,—calm and pure!


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[ZaunköniG]

A Lament.


Alas, alas!—the roses cried despairing,
That leaf by leaf our glory should decay!
That all our splendours should be earth and clay,
And dream-like fade for all our crimson daring!

No more the winds our raptures wide are bearing,
—No more our fragrance doth uplift the day,
And passionate pilgrims now no more do stray,
Around us dreamless, death's dark splendours wearing!

Yet shall we sigh and raise the mournful wail,
Because our Beauty now has ceased to be!
Nay, tho' to-day our youth and glory pale,

What is to-day to all Eternity!
For in fresh raptures of this radiant earth
Dead roses come again to crimson birth!




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