The Sailor Of The Seven Seas Poem by Nazmul Haque

I know not how many black curtains have to be lifted up to bring this morning.
Look in the orange orchard - the green leaves are shivering;
Look at your door-steps - the foam that The seven seas’ tide has brought in;

O Sailor of the seven seas, see, your ship calls at your door,
A life unanimated, like a painted picture does it stand there upon the shore.
No water reaches the helm, its sails do remain unwavered,
O Sailor, rise, rise up now, I beseech,

Rise up and join the seamen waiting there,
You will find your ship sailing again in the seas,
Like a full-moon does it seem upon the blue seas,
Overcoming cloudy waves and crossing all obstacles it moves on.

Still in slumber! While the hasnahena flowers did wither away long before
in the morning.
Still you did not wake up? Still you are asleep?
Do you not hear snake’s hissing at your door?

Innumerable hungry people crowd there;
O Sailor! unfold now your merchandise; listen to me,
Or your everything will fall apart,
Don't you see, what illusion they are after?

Ever moving away from the track and going down.
O Sailor! You know for sure your star has not gone down,
This desert dreams of your moonlit night,
See tulips... bloomed up everywhere;

Then what is it you are afraid of, what fear shakes your inner self?
Has your ship collapsed?
Has any cloud covered your star?
Is it why the motionless ship’s rudder broken?
Is it why your empty sail is roaring against the hungry sea wind?

I know not, still I
call you, sailor of the seven seas,
The coral island’s coconut-garden sings with the wind.
Your seamen lost their patience for this sleep;

The seven seas raise poisoning foam in blue wrath;
Whereas, unknown passengers are taking sky-routes: the unknown way;
Look in the orange orchard - the green leaves are shivering;

Who fills up your merchandise with precious stones and marble?
Your sleep brings you only the ominous dreams.
Have you not paid yet for the chaotic night?

Hasn't much toll on life yet taken?
It’s morning now. Yet asleep?
Yet you could not get up?

Have you forgotten the sweet-scented flowers, the aromatic flavour?
Where saffron buds bloom in gravel and dust?
Where fairy land’s dream-maid Gul-e-Bakauli flower,

Wakes up with a kiss on the white forehead of jasmine?
Have you forgotten that first voyage:
the ship was sailing

Towards the country of unknown flowers;
Have you forgotten that emerald-picking dream
Dazzling in moon-light was every eye!

The ship on sail cut through the salty sea-water,
A tireless explorer,
Tearing through the blue curtain of the horizon,

Proceeding on and on through the seven seas.
I cannot call to mind the unknown port
Where the ship set sail,

It was loaded there with emerald and marble-
This much I can remember.
Violent tempest did tear your sail long ago,

Your dream is now haunted by Python-like nightmares.
They attack your worn-out deadly port,
They have polluted your caving sky.

Do you listen, do you not hear,
O Sailor of the seven seas,
The thrust of dry air on your closed door!

This is not moon-light, but murmur of dream on coconut-garden,
This is not fairyland’s window, but the port of coconut;
It’s the people’s lamenting on your closed door,

The last jingling of sitar pervades in the cries of hungry children.
You must set your sail up today,
Let your tattered sail be repaired now,

What if the broken mast makes fun of it,
Still the ship must sail today.
Who knows when your dreamy night ended,

Today the stormy wind knocks at your door,
Its venomous teeth indicates death.
Your ivory tower falls down with the strike of its tail.

O Sailor! don’t stop by this signal of death,
Even then you must sail on this century’s dead sea.
Night prevails here now,

The royal gate of Hera can still be seen far away.
Here people are trembling now in acute hunger,
Here tears roll down in innumerable streams now,

Yet the royal gate of Hera can be seen far away...
Road paved with pebbles,
Many obstacles, seas and mountains,

Noon-time monsters come near crawling,
Vultures cast their shadows over us,
We have lost grass-green groves and all flowering gardens,

Yet the royal gate of Hera can be seen far away...
All the royal gates opened long ago,
The full-moon had enchanted the palace long ago.

O Sailor! Won’t you unhook your anchor?
Yet to wait?
O Sailor! Won’t you unfold your sail today?

Yet to wait for that?
All your sails waver with the wind,
No more to wait now,

Since your rudder touched salty sea water,
Then no more waiting,
Then blow your trumpet for departure now,

Let th passengers and travelers come,
O Sailor, don’t wait now.
It’s already very late, you know,

Many a season of sea-sailing has already gone by,
And many a cardamom seed the violent tempests did spread apart,
And the cinnamon branches did strike against forests.

The ghastly wind now has stolen the perfume’s fragrance
Death now has caught hold of your throat,
And tidal bore strike at your door;

All your hasnahena flowers dropped long ago.
No fragrance in the flower-garden,
Though green leaves still exist in the orange garden,

Their days are numbered gradually;
Unknown soil’s deep and intense pull
Brings an end to the dream for the green.

It knows that, It knows that well.
Yet the soil will bring forth ripe oranges
With all its vitality,

Though the dry wind does wither away the grey leaves,
And bring the death-like chill,
Yet within its heart the endless hope ever kindles;

Still it has limitless dream.
O Sailor, you too should not fear,
You too gather the wonders of Hera’s guiding star,

Let orange leaves shed with this wind-
Enough to spare,
They crowd together, where the royal gate of Hera

Shines in the sky.
In that way lie many a desert to cross by
Salty sea-water stands in that route,

Yet halting places exist on the way,
Shadowy groves and fresh water wait for you.
Then set your sail now,

And unhook your anchor;
Now after many a journey for the goal,
You will find the gate of Hera in front of you.