The cloud-capped skies, the boisterous earth now belong to you, the young soul.
I have no use for the button-less, torn shirt; that I give to you.
A lung-full of laughter, the sun-soaked walks through the day
The idle slumber in the fields of night; take it all from me.
I give you, young spirit, my times tough and good
Painless sorrow, anger, outrage – I give you my emotions.
Raging debates over a cuppa coffee, those shared cigarettes, a stolen glance at the girl next door
Submission to the verses, stung by the sharp-edged words, dissection of the human psyche
Were they human at all?
Suicide. Footsteps of arrogance sweeping through the city.
A river and a few countries. The women in my life –
I have no use of them, young soul. Old clothes refuse to fit in.
The baggage of the past needs to be shed; I give them to you.
The fate of the past rests on you. The burden of the future in your hands.
Reconcile or perish? For you to decide, young spirit
I wish I could give you my days left behind.
On the 7th death anniversary of Sunil Gangopadhyay, a humble tribute to the stalwart poet – A translation of his celebrated poem ‘Uttoradhikar’. This translation was earlier published on MaaMatiManush.tv website.
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