The Night When It Rained (A Poet's Dilemma) Poem by Amar Agarwala
The Night When It Rained (A Poet's Dilemma)
It rained that night and lightening flashed,
The wild wind smote my window pane.
So much that I felt it were rude,
Not respecting my loneliness,
Nor caring for my solitude.
Did it some tidings from heaven...?
I knew not for the thunder roared.
Its notes seemed all garbled to me,
So I barred the wind from my room,
Harking not to its fervent plea.
My mortal eyes did see it not,
The angel fair who rode on wind.
Sheathed between the dark and light,
With dripping robes and hopeful eyes,
Her journey long into the night.
It was to end my solitude
Present I wanted all my life.
But all I did was doubt and wait,
Not knowing heaven's miracle,
It bestowed on my hallowed fate.
I know not how the wind crept in,
It whisked around and blew my lamp,
Then fused into the shadows dark.
At dawning light I knew I erred,
For the angel had left her mark.
Upon my desk I saw her note
Etched with soot of its burnt out wick.
It said - ‘You didn't but the lamp knew,
That I came here to light your life,
And bestow that which is your due.
Now do count for some other night,
To hark my soundless measured steps,
That I may fill your interlude.
I bade you sit though thundery nights,
Impassioned in this certitude,
That I may end your solitude.'
Now dawn to dusk I glimpse the skies,
That thunder clouds may gather soon.
And how I pray that it remain,
Until twilight has spread her veil,
To end my fevered ceaseless pain.
I feel that night is coming soon,
When I would bask in heaven's boon,
My angel sweet would come to me,
Again one dark and thundery night,
And gather me into her arms
To embark on a blissful flight,
So I be spared from loneliness
And be entombed in heaven's light.
*************
Poets live a sublime life, which is often strewn with pain and trauma, for they are often misunderstood and berated by the mortal world. The poet uses the emotions emanating from his harrowed existence to pen verses for others. So that they may live life better and with profound wisdom that is so hard to gather, as it is painful too.
Yet, poets are humans, and therefore fallible. The narrative above, states the fallibility and frailness of a poet and how he errs in knowing heaven's will. He realizes it, albeit late and then resolves to do better the next time. There is a subtle lesson in it - It states that opportunity and blessings may not come to us in the form that we may desire or seek. Sometimes, it catches us completely unaware, and we may even end up shunning it. Yet, if we remain prayerful and have full faith upon divinity, it comes back again... and again, until we recognize it and accept it with all our heart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/18/2024 6:53:40 PM # 1.0.0.1119
It rained that night and lightening flashed, The wild wind smote my window pane. So much that I felt it were rude, Not respecting my loneliness, Nor caring for my solitude. It's a nice beginning. Now dawn to dusk I glimpse the skies, That thunder clouds may gather soon. And how I pray that it remain, Until twilight has spread her veil, To end my fevered ceaseless pain You have expressed your pain from waiting so beautifully! I feel that night is coming soon, When I would bask in heaven's boon, My angel sweet would come to me, Again one dark and thundery night, And gather me into her arms To embark on a blissful flight, So I be spared from loneliness And be entombed in heaven's light. I appreciate your hopefulness here. A very nice poem. I enjoyed it. A perfect 10 for it.
Dear Subhas, Thank you for reading my verses with such care and depth. Am indebted at your reading so finely between the lines. A mark of a true and talented poet. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Warm Regards!