Yesterday evening, as on all evenings,
The banyan briefly dallied with the river
Its tiny red fruits floated on the waters
Glistening in the sun like rubies
The woman-bather, busy disentangling
Pieces of driftwood from her floating hair
Took no notice of the fruity overtures.
The last ferry did not bring him
Nor did the five ‘o clock circular train
Which disgorged people in sweaty shirts
Onto the dusty Bagh Bazar platform
The mongrel got up from its disturbed sleep
Sniffing at the coal-smell left by the train
Went back to its sleep under the cement bench.
The beggars on the river steps ate their early dinner
And retired for the day on the platform
Somehow they had scintillating prior knowledge
That nobody was actually expected
On the train or by the ferry on the day
Or for that matter, on any other day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem