Toru Dutt

Sitting in a porchway cool,

May 10, 2020May 10, 2020

Twilight hastens on to rule.
Working hours have well-nigh past.
Shadows run across the lands:
But a sower lingers still,
Old, in rags, he patient stands.
Looking on, I feel a thrill.
Black and high, his silhouette
Dominates the furrows deep!
Now to sow the task is set.
Soon shall come a time to reap.
Marches he along the plain
To and fro, and scatters wide
From his hands the precious grain;
Muse I, as I see him stride.
Darkness deepens. Fades the light.
Now his gestures to mine eyes
Are august; and strange, – his height
Seems to touch the starry skies

Toru Dutt

Love came to Flora asking for a flower

Byammarkhan May 10, 2020May 10, 2020

The lily and the rose, long, long had beenRivals for that high honor. Bards of powerHad sung their claims. ‘The rose can never towerLike the pale lily with her Juno mien’ –‘But is the lily lovelier?’ Thus betweenFlower-factions rang the strife in Psyche’s bower.‘Give me a flower delicious as the roseAnd stately as the lily…

Toru Dutt

LIKE a huge Python, winding round and round

Byammarkhan May 10, 2020May 10, 2020

Up to its very summit near the stars,A creeper climbs, in whose embraces boundNo other tree could live. But gallantlyThe giant wears the scarf, and flowers are hungIn crimson clusters all the boughs among,Whereon all day are gathered bird and bee;And oft at nights the garden overflowsWith one sweet song that seems to have no…

Toru Dutt

The budding shoot ripens unharmed by the scythe,

Byammarkhan May 10, 2020May 10, 2020

Through spring-tide the green clusters bloom.Is’t strange, then, that I in my life’s morning hour,Though troubles like clouds on the dark present lower,Half-frighted shrink back from my doom ?Let the stern-hearted stoic run boldly on death!I – I weep and I hope; to the north wind’s chill breathI bend, – then erect is my form!If…

Toru Dutt

A waif on this earth,

Byammarkhan May 10, 2020May 10, 2020

Contemned from my birthAnd rejected by all,From my lips brokeWhere – oh where shall I fly?Who comfort will bring?Sing, – said God in reply,Chant poor little thing.Life struck me with fright –Full of chances and pain,So I hugged with delightThe drudge’s hard chain;One must eat, – yet I die,Like a bird with clipped wing,Sing –…

Toru Dutt

Christmas

Byammarkhan May 10, 2020May 10, 2020

The sky is dark, the snow descends:Ring, bells, ring out your merriest chime!Jesus is born; the Virgin bendsAbove him. Oh, the happy time!No curtains bright-festooned are hung,To shield the Infant from the cold;The spider-webs alone are slungUpon the rafters bare and old.On fresh straw lies the little One,Not in a palace, but a farm,And kindly…

Toru Dutt

A sea of foliage girds our garden round,

Byammarkhan May 10, 2020May 10, 2020

Sharp contrasts of all colors here are seen;The light-green graceful tamarinds aboundAmid the mango clumps of green profound,And palms arise, like pillars gray, between;And o’er the quiet pools the seemuls lean,Red-red, and startling like a trumpet’s sound.But nothing can be lovelier than the rangesOf bamboos to the eastward, when the moonLooks through their gaps, and…

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Twilight hastens on to rule–
Working hours are wellnigh past
Shadows shoot across the lands;
But one sower lingers still,
Old, in rags, he patient stands,–
Looking on, I feel a thrill.
Black and high his silhouette
Dominates the furrows deep!
Now to sow the task is set,
Soon shall come a time to reap.
Marches he along the plain,
To and fro, and scatters wide
From his hands the precious grain;
Moody, I, to see him stride.
Darkness deepens. Gone the light.
Now his gestures to mine eyes
Are august; and strange–his height
Seems to touch the starry skies.

Victor Marie Hugo

‘C’est une âme charmante.’

Byammarkhan May 10, 2020May 10, 2020

Enfant, si j’étais roi, je donnerais l’empire,Et mon char, et mon sceptre, et mon peuple à genoux,Et ma couronne d’or, et mes bains de porphyre,Et mes flottes, à qui la mer ne peut suffire,Pour un regard de vous!Si j’étais Dieu, la terre et l’air avec les ondes,Les anges, les démons courbés devant ma loi,Et le…

Victor Marie Hugo

Demain, dès l’aube, à l’heure où blanchit la campagne,

Byammarkhan May 10, 2020May 10, 2020

J’irai par la forêt, j’irai par la montagne.Je ne puis demeurer loin de toi plus longtemps.Je marcherai les yeux fixés sur mes pensées,Sans rien voir au dehors, sans entendre aucun bruit,Seul, inconnu, le dos courbé, les mains croisées,Triste, et le jour pour moi sera comme la nuit.Je ne regarderai ni l’or du soir qui tombe,Ni…

Victor Marie Hugo

C’était la première soirée

Byammarkhan May 10, 2020May 10, 2020

Je m’en souviens, mon adorée.T’en souvient-il ?Nous errions dans la ville immense,Tous deux, sans bruit,A l’heure où le repos commenceAvec la nuit !Heure calme, charmante, austère,Où le soir naît !Dans cet ineffable mystèreTout rayonnait,Tout ! l’amour dans tes yeux sans voile,Fiers, ingénus !Aux vitres mainte pauvre étoile,Au ciel Vénus !Notre-Dame, parmi les dômesDes vieux faubourgs,Dressait…

Victor Marie Hugo

Il songe. Il s’est assis rêveur sous un érable.

Byammarkhan May 10, 2020May 10, 2020

Regarde-t-il les fleurs ? regarde-t-il les cieux ?Il songe. La nature au front mystérieuxFait tout ce qu’elle peut pour apaiser les hommes ;Du coteau plein de vigne au verger plein de pommesLes mouches viennent, vont, reviennent ; les oiseauxJettent leur petite ombre errante sur les eaux ;Le moulin prend la source et l’arrête au passage…

Victor Marie Hugo

Ô toi d’où me vient ma pensée,

Byammarkhan May 10, 2020May 10, 2020

Relève ta tête abaissée,Ô toi d’où me vient mon bonheur !Quand je traverse cette lieueQui nous sépare, au sein des nuits,Ta patrie étoilée et bleueRayonne à mes yeux éblouis.C’est l’heure où cent lampes en flammesBrillent aux célestes plafonds ;L’heure où les astres et les âmesÉchangent des regards profonds.Je sonde alors ta destinée,Je songe à toi,…

Victor Marie Hugo

Ce siècle avait deux ans ! Rome remplaçait Sparte,

Byammarkhan May 10, 2020May 10, 2020

Et du premier consul, déjà, par maint endroit,Le front de l’empereur brisait le masque étroit.Alors dans Besançon, vieille ville espagnole,Jeté comme la graine au gré de l’air qui vole,Naquit d’un sang breton et lorrain à la foisUn enfant sans couleur, sans regard et sans voix ;Si débile qu’il fut, ainsi qu’une chimère,Abandonné de tous, excepté…

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