The Night Poem by Debtoru Chatterjee

Do you have no joys to yield from your black fold?
Increasing the dread, allying with silence and the cold
A sign of evil, crime or Death
And all Nature watches Your ghastly Dance in bated breath.

Mankind seems to bolt from Your silent tread
‘As shadows lengthen chasing the rear-guards of light'
Travellers quicken step to welcome shelter, home and bread
Play loud music, light fires bright.

When all Nature falls under Your black shroud
The gloomiest poets bring their wares about
The melancholy thought of Sophocles rings the ages down
And Aurelius the fatuity of the Crown.

And yet no matter how deep Your chasm and shaft
Muffle the sound and make eyes blind of way
Hold tenuous lives in a death grasp
On the jungle floor under murderous claws
Or near medicine bottles in mute array.

You too are being torn to shreds, slow but sure
The Dawn rings in hope, cheer, pure
And Man once more sets upon Nature's secrets' pursuit
Night! You shall be Death's pall-bearer no more!