Words Poem by Samarendranath Mahapatra

It is difficult to say how words come and go,
how they speak, how they sing,
and how they hold you tight
in the secret expanses of the mind.

Sometimes they dance in grand gestures
like a cataract falling at the foot of the mountain.
Sometimes they stay cool and composed,
in a profound poise, like the listless waters
of the deep blue ocean.

Sometimes they seek you
in the wetness of the monsoon shower;
sometimes they lose themselves
in the mist of hazy mysteries.

How do words come and go?

Sometimes they put a garland
of blue-tinted dreams of spring
on the butterfly's coloured wings;
sometimes they paint the soft petals of flowers
with colours of love.
Sometimes they seize the senses
in a cloak of silent faith,
and sometimes they lull the senses to sleep,
caressing them in an easy redolence.

It is hard to say how words come and go-
from the ultimate point of the horizon
to the last limits of the endless skies,
from nought to the larger void,
and from the molecule to the supreme soul.

That is how the words come and go, these words.
……………………………………………
Translated from Original Odia by J.P. Das