BLISS OF JOY: A RAJASTHANI POEM BY SANGHMITRA RATHORE: ENGLISH TRANSLATION

 BLISS OF JOY

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The Sun was about to set

Not a single hope of his was sold

Throughout the day

He followed so many people

With a hope to sell 

In a circumference of ten yards

He measured so many miles

Shops are about to be closed now

Crowd is dispersing

He is holding in his hand

Unsold flute

He is holding in his hand

Empty plates of food

Clouds of sadness are over-casting

His hopeful eyes

He, too, is packing, not only his bag

But shattered pieces of glass-like dreams

These pieces prick his heart

His heart is flinching

Like a hurt deer

The bundle that he carried on his shoulders

Seemed to be heavier than it was in morning

On his tiny shoulders, he was not only carrying flutes

He was carrying burden of broken roof of his home too

Evening had set 

Diffused everywhere was 

Deep silence after fair was over

He saw a boy of his own age

He was collecting peels of pleasure

Probing in his bag 

For a complete piece of happiness

Perhaps, he, too, was looking for

A meal for one time

His eyes, too, were burdened 

With load of hopes

Turning around, as if he saw his own shadow

The one who could not sell anything

And the one who could not get anything

Both were glancing at each other

As if both are tied with same line of fate

Both smiled in unison

Just as two friends meet in battle-field

They fight in the same army

Are wounded, but don't accept defeat

They conquer this world

Not only with valour, but with their smile too

He picked out from his bag his best flute

Tied with a yellow colour thread

Studded with beads

Dipped in colour of beauty

He extended it towards his unfamiliar friend

It was not only a wooden piece of music

But a missed pleasure of his part

He, too, accepted it smilingly

And relieved his friend from load

Due to which his tender shoulders were over-burdened

Both of them returned

Deriving from the festival

Own share of bliss of joy.