Section Three

Chittaranjan Das

Songs of the Sea

I

O thou unhoped-for elusive wonder of the skies,

Stand still one moment! I will lead thee and bind

With music to the chambers of my mind.

Behold how calm today this sea before me lies

And quivering with what tremulous heart of dreams

In the pale glimmer of the faint moonbeams.

If thou at last art come indeed, O mystery, stay

Woven by song into my heart-beats from this day.

Stand, goddess, yet! Into this anthem of the seas

With the pure strain of my full voiceless heart

Some rhythm of the rhythmless, some part

Of thee I would weave today, with living harmonies

Peopling the solitude I am within.

Wilt thou not here abide on that vast scene,

Thou whose vague raiment edged with dream haunts us and flees,

Fulfilled in an eternal quiet like this sea's?

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II

I lean to thee a listening ear

And thy immense refrain I hear,

O Ocean circled with the lights of morn.

What word is it thou singst? what tune

My heart is filled with, and it soon

Must overflow? What mystical unborn

Spirit is singing in thy white foam-caves?

What voice turns heaven to music from thy waves?

III

Long gazing on this dawn and restless sea,

My heart is moved with a strange minstrelsy.

Tranquil and full and slow that music's sound

Or a chant pitiful, tender and profound.

At times its passing fills my heart with tears.

Maddened it runs and maddening him who hears.

What spirit lives and laughs and weeps in thee?

What thought is here that cries eternally?

I know not, but a trembling sweet and strong

Has taken my every limb touched by thy song,

O infinite Voice, O Soul that callst to me,

As I look on this luminous dawn and on the sea!

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IV

The flute of dawn has rung out on the sea,

And in a holiday of festal glee

The radiant sunbeams dally and happily stream:

How on thy body they wallow, laugh and gleam!

Flowers blown in song on a bright welter cast!

The riches of sunlight quiver along thy vast

Sweet tumult, kindle the world thy chantings hold,

Or, rocking, for thy feet are chains of gold.

Now has thy cry become a bird of sound,

And on the wings, the throbbing breast around

A dream of gold is smeared; in my heart's skies

The beautiful vagrant making springtide flies.

There wings the floating mighty creature, joys

Threading and lights, a glory and a voice.

V

Upon what bosom shall I lay my bliss

Or whom enrich with all my welling tears,

The unguessed joy, the grief that nameless is

And will not be denied? All checks they pierce.

The riches of my bliss have broken in bloom,

And all my sorrow seeks melodious room.

How have they made of all my secret hours

A kingdom of strange singing in groves of flowers!

A mystic wind, a nameless trouble keeps

My spirit. All the load of my heart's deeps

Where shall I rest, moved to thy passionate play,

O Ocean, upon this thy festal day?

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VI

Dawn has become to me a golden fold

Of shining dreams, hearing thy potent cry.

A marvel chant on every wave is rolled,

And sky and wind repeat one melody.

What hast thou done? My mind has grown a lyre

Whose many hundred strings thy tones inspire;

Thy touch, thy hand have made it eternally

A refrain of thy pride and majesty.

VII

Behold, the perfect-gloried dawn has come

Far-floating from eternity her home.

Her limbs are clad in silver light of dreams,

Her brilliant influence on the water streams,

And in that argent flood to one white theme

Are gathering all the hues and threads of dream.

Tricked with her fire the heavens richly fill;

To an eternal chant the winds are still;

And all thy bosom's deep unquiet taken

Thou hast wrung out and into melody shaken,

And all the sounds that stirred the earth so long

Are called into a wordless trance of song.

O minstrel of infinity! What world

Soundless has known that music? What ether curled

In voiceless sleep? Where are those notes withdrawn?

Into the hush of what eternal dawn?

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VIII

I have no art of speech, no charm of song,

Rhythm nor measure nor the lyric pace.

No words alluring to my skill belong.

Now in me thought's free termless heavens efface

Limit and mark; upon my spirit is thrown

The shadow of infinity alone.

I at thy voice in brilliant dawn or eve

Have felt strange formless words within my mind.

Then my heart's doors wide to thy cry I leave

And in thy chant I seek myself and find.

Now some few hymns of that dim union sweet

Have filled my soul. I bring them to thy feet.

IX

All day within me only one music rings.

I have become a lyre of helpless strings,

And I am but a horn for thee to wind,

O vast musician! Take me, all thy mind

In light, in gloom, by day, by night express.

Into me, minstrel, breathe thy mightiness.

On solitary shores, in lonely skies,

In night's huge sieges when the winds blow wild,

In many a lovely land of mysteries,

In many a shadowy realm, or where a child,

Dawn, bright and young, sweet unripe thoughts conceives,

Or through the indifferent calm desireless eves,

In magic night and magic light of thee,

Play on thy instrument, O Soul, O Sea.

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X

What is this play thou playest with my life?

How hast thou parted lids mind held so stiff

Against the vision, that like a bud shut long

My mind has opened only to thy song,

And all my life lies like a yearning flower

Hued, perfumed, quivering in thy murmurous power,

And all my days are grown an infinite strain

Of music sung by thee, O shoreless main?

XI

My heart wings restless with this music's pain,

Bird of some wonderful harmonious reign:

No time, no place it meets, touches no end,

But rests and flies in melody contained.

Song's boundless regions have no isle preferred,

Its depths no plummet moment yet has found.

Memories and strange deep silences are heard

Here in thy solitude of shoreless sound.

Thou melody fathomless! O sea where floats

Song timeless! What were these immortal notes

To which my heart could silently disclose

The hidden petals of the eternal rose?

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XII

O painter, thou thy marvellous art didst use

In green and pearl and blue and countless hues

To make this pattern of myriad flowers untold,

Passions of azure, miracles of gold.

My eyes had hunger for form's mysteries

And wandered in vision upon colour's seas.

Paint out these hues! draw darkness like a brush

Over these tired eyelids! blind me, hush!

Ah, not for visible delight I long!

My soul enchanted only by thy song

I will swim out upon thy waves of sound,

O Voice, and sink into thee for ever drowned.

Then shall I pass into thy hymn, O sea.

There shall be nothing else to eternity.

The universe shall but to sound belong,

And Time and Space shall tremble into song.

XIII

O now today like a too brilliant dream

What is this that thy floating heart reveals

In the full moon's intense wide-flowing beam?

What infinite peace from thy calm moonlight steals

Waking my breast to this unchecked delight?

What melody moves thee in the luminous night?

What shadow of a dream from lives long past

Returns into thy ancient heart, O sea?

What bygone virtue comes fulfilled at last?

What dead illusion paints this dream on thee?

A hundred glimmering memories break like flowers

On waves of moonlight in my life's still hours.

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It seems as if a hundred lives' joy, fears

And burden of their laughter and their tears

Today came round me and incessantly

Sang to my soul their anthem in this sea.

A million lives today have met in one

And float on dream a single flower alone.

XIV

The day is filled with clouds and dusk and grey.

Wave sobbing falls on wave; there flowers, there rocks

A pain unquiet in their broken shocks.

Trembling there moans a large lament today.

The heavens are filled with dusk and sad and grey.

An endless outcry fills my soul today.

Is't joy? is't pain? Are these the depths of love!

Troubled, restless, peering with wild crests above,

What is it cries, what yearns in thee this day,

O heart? Thy heavens are full of dusk and grey.

XV

Today the heavens are sealed with clouds and blind,

A leaping madman comes the pathless wind,

The rains of deluge flee, a storm-tossed shade,

Over thy breast of gloom. Loud and dismayed

Thy lost enormous chant rolls purposeless

Seeking its end in an unregioned space.

O come, thou great mad sea, O surging come!

My breast defenceless mates thy dolorous foam.

Darkness the heavens, the wind doom's signal breath,

I shall float on through thee or sink in death.

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XVI

This is not now the lyre's melodious stream,

These are not now the blossoming groves of dream,

But Rudra's torrent comes with pitiless play:

The world sinks down as on its last wild day.

The fathomless depths leap up to mix the sky;

Winds of destruction's sport walk tenebrously.

Masses of driving death go chanting by,

The dreadful laughters of eternity.

No lightning cleaves the night thy thunders fill;

Thy wounded bosom pours out clamour and wail;

The myriad serpents of infinitude

Their countless hoods above thy waves extrude.

I hear mid the loud stormwinds and the night

A voice arise of terror infinite;

Death's shoutings in a darkness without shore

Join like a million Titans' hungry roar.

XVII

When thy enormous wind has filled my breast,

Torn sail and broken rudder shall have rest.

My soul shall refugeless, a sinking boat,

Go down in thy fierce seas nor wish to float.

I under thy brow of great destruction's frown

In the eternal darkness shall lie down

Upon that other coast remote and dumb.

Though in the image of death today thou come,

My heart keeps open for thee thy house, this breast.

O king, O sea, enter and dwell and rest.

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XVIII

O high stark Death, ascetic proud and free,

Draw back thy trident of eternity:

Leave, leave my days their natural life and death

Reclined in the heart's grove, lulled with music's breath.

The lotus of creation, like a rhyme

Trembling with its own joy and sorrow, long

On the harmonious ocean of old Time

Has floated, heaven above the infinite song.

O great last death of all, leave yet to stay

Or pass, to fade or bloom my little day.

XIX

O loud blind conqueror, stay thy furious car,

Lay down thy arrow. Evening from afar

Comes pacing with her smooth and noiseless step

And dusk pale light of quiet in heavens of sleep.

Stay then thy chariot, rest! O tired with strife!

O wearied soul of death! conqueror of life!

Vain was thy war, O Lord, my soul to win;

Myself was giving myself without that pain.

Now I will light the evening lamps for thee,

My soul with vesper hymns thy fane shall be,

And I will spread a cool couch for thy sleep

And at thy feet calm's holy water keep.

What need, to conquer me, hadst thou to strive,

Who only longed unasked myself to give?

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XX

Thou hast come back, O Lord! this soul, thy sky,

Looks glad on flowers and fruits and ecstasy:

Ceased has thy song of death, thy call of pain,

Life settles on thy lips and lids again.

Once more I look upon thy joyous dawn

And the links of rapture twixt our hearts are drawn.

My heart leans out to hear thy song. Ah, when

Thy voice calls, all its buds shall open then,

While mid the touch of breezes wrapped in flowers

Cry under lyric heavens the harmonious hours.

XXI

The light of the young dawn round every limb

Sweeps over thee as golden billows may;

Out every moment glimmers some new dream.

Thou in a swing of gold hast sat at play.

Like a great king thou robest thyself, O sea,

And pourst thy love in waves of precious gold,

Like a young royal lover lavishly

Chasing my heart with wealth through every fold.

And I to thee a youthful soul have brought

Full of the dawn to lay it at thy feet.

A wreath of lilies gold my hands have wrought,

For thy rich golden neck a carcanet.

We two together bound shall lie and gleam

Golden with dawn in solitudes of dream.

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XXII

O today in heaven there rings high a mournful strain,

Till our empty hearts beat slow and of ending fain.

Mournful moans the cloud, mournfully and loud

Kissing ocean, roaming heaven in vain

Hear the winds complain!

And today with lost desire

Sobs my spirit like a lyre

Wakened to complain.

For it seeks a want it cannot name,

Aching with a viewless flame

Knows not how to rest nor where to flee,

Only wailing knows and pain.

Towards the clouds it soars up fitfully,

Lured it knows not where nor why:

Singing only from the soul

Songs of bitter dole!

Neither rhythm keeps nor cry

Of saving measure, fitfully

Wailing out its shapeless pain.

They have filled the heavens and filled my soul,

Songs of weeping wild and bitter dole,

Chants of utter pain. 

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XXIII

Sleep, sleep through clouded moons, O sea, at last

Under a lonely sky; the eyelids close

Wearied of song. Held are the regions fast;

Mute in the hushed and luminous world repose.

I sit upon thy hither shore, O main,

My gaze is on thy face. Yet sleep, O sleep!

My heart is trembling with a soundless strain,

My soul is watching by thy slumber deep.

When shall I know thee who thou art, O friend?

When wilt thou wake? with what grand paean vast?

Lo, I will wait for thee. Thou at the end

Stretch out thy arms in some dim eve at last.

XXIV

Where have I seen thee? where have clasped thy hand?

When gazed into thy eyes? what distant time

Saw our first converse? what forgotten land?

Sangst thou? or was thy laughter heard sublime?

Then was the soul so full of deepest pains?

Were then the eyes so ready with their tears?

Such thoughts, such griefs, so many sobbing strains

Played on our soul-strings in those distant years?

Then didst thou take me to thy bosom wide

Like a kind friend with close-encircling arm?

Did all my thoughts into thy nature glide

Led out by love as with a whispered charm?

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All I remember not, but this alone,

My heart joined thine in some past age or clime;

Because thy touch has never from me gone,

I float to thee across eternal Time.

I think, in a strange secret trysting-place

We too shall meet at last and recognise,

Where day weds night in some enchanted space,

All the old love awakening in our eyes.

XXV

None is awake in all the world but I;

While the sun hesitated, I upstood

And met thee in a grandiose secrecy

To lave my soul in thy majestic flood.

Be outward songs the outward nature's part!

These are for all and all their tones may hear.

There is a strain that fills the secret heart:

Reveal that music to my listening ear.

Therefore, O sea, O friend, I came alone,

That I might hear that rapture or that moan.

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XXVI

The sun has not yet risen. Luring night

Shelters thee still as with a robe of love.

Calm are thy lips, thy eyes have tranquil light,

Whether thou sleep or dream or wake or move.

In the last trance of darkness visible

How beautiful and calm thy gaze, O sea!

My speech, my song have suddenly grown still

In this enamoured twilight's ecstasy.

Am I not as thy brother younger born?

Then sometimes turn a loving gaze, O sea.

The song that shakes thy bosom night and morn

Bid echo sometimes, Ocean, even in me.

XXVII

The sunbeams fall and kiss thy lips and gleam

Calm and profound like thy own majesty.

How all my million golden flowers of dream

Out of my soul thou hast drawn utterly,

And these thou wearest as a garland now;

I stand with empty hands upon thy shore.

Sing me one chant of thine! Ah, let it flow

And endless nectar and my soul explore

With echoes and with lights, and turn thy gaze

For ever and for ever on my days,

And from today, O Ocean without strand,

Thy song I'll sing, wandering from land to land.

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XXVIII

Nay, nay, let be! O not today that sound

Before these multitudes, but what all can hear!

These robed for joy have come thy margin round;

Draw close their hearts to thine, give dance and cheer.

But when the midnight broods on thee again,

These happy laughters sunk upon thy swell,

The world shall close in song about us twain

And darkness shall stand there as sentinel.

Thou shalt sing out one chant, a different song

From me return; we shall together lie

In infinite gladness while ambrosial, long,

Thy thunders drown me in their harmony.

When thickest night shall hold again thy shore,

We two shall meet in song and join once more.

XXIX

How many aeons hast thou flowed like this,

The torture of this music in thy heart?

World-maddening melodies that stormed heart to kiss

After what cycles from thy surge still part,

Recalling endless ages,

Regretting countless lives?

Birthless and endless, bearing from the first

Eternal wailing thou sweepst on, O sea.

What hunger sobs in thee? what vehement thirst?

What tireless anguish moans implacably?

Moans many a thousand ages,

Moans many a million lives.

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O friend cursed thus through the unending years!

O my unquiet ocean all of tears!

Yet 'tis to thee that leaving all I come,

As always came I to my real home

And always shall come in the endless years,

Parted through endless ages,

Met in unnumbered lives.

XXX

What years, what clime, what dim and distant shore

Beheld our meeting first? What thundrous roar

Or low sweet plaint of music first had bound

In what eternal seats of what vast sound?

What heart of mighty singing devious-souled,

What mystery of beaten time controlled?

The spirit of what nameless tune could bring

Our births to oneness from their wandering?

From some huge soul's beginningless infinity

Our waters side by side began their course, O sea.

How often our lives have parted been since then!

How often have our two hearts met again!

Thou floatst, O friend, for ever to that Vast;

I float on thy chant only to the last.

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XXXI

My sleepless midnight thou hast filled indeed

With seas of song, O King of minstrelsy.

What pomps of sound through the thick night proceed!

What surf, what surge of thunders rolls over me!

My eyes, my face are covered with thee, O main,

My heart sunk down beneath thy echo-plain.

My soul like a flower offered to the storm

Trembles. What wild great song without a form

Burdened with all the joys a heart can feel,

Torn with all agonies no joy can heal,

Rolls through this darkness? Nothing do I see,

Only a rumour and infinity

I feel upon my bosom lay its weight,

A clamouring vague vastness increate.

A hundred strains left voiceless to the ear,

A thousand silences of song I hear.

Of universal sound the wordless tongue

That in each voice and cry is hidden deep,

The heart unsung of all songs ever sung

Comes to me through the veils of death and sleep.

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XXXII

Lighting small lamps and in a little room

I played and poorly hummed a trivial theme;

With the lamp's rays on my soul's half-lit gloom

I traced the image of a bounded dream.

Thee I had quite forgotten, Ocean vast:

Well did my dream-bound little play-room please,

An idly-plaited wreath before me placed,

Holding my petty lamp, content, at ease.

Then with thy solemn thunders didst thou call

Chanting eternity in thy deep strain;

Thy huge rebuke shook all my nature, all

The narrow coasts of thought sank crumbling in.

Collapsed that play-room and that lamp was quenched.

I stood in Ocean's thunders washed and drenched.

XXXIII

Evening has not descended yet, fast sets the sun;

Darkness and light together seize on thee as one.

Gazing upon thy luminous dusk the clouds float by,

The charmed wind o'er thy troubled lights sings murmuringly.

Upon this undark darkness and enchanted light

Heaven wondering gazes down, a silence infinite.

O Ocean, travelling what uncertain shadowy reign

Singst thou a song of sadness and a hampered strain?

To what vast problem hast thou found no answer yet?

With what sad doubt are thy steps burdened, pilgrim great?

With life and death what converse dost thou hold today?

What lyre has broken in thy hands? what pains dismay?

All darkness earth endures, all light that reaches life

Pour on my being, Ocean, from thy soul's huge strife.

My soul too grows a trembling shadow mid these shades.

What hope is here or truth? What fear? What lie invades?

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XXXIV

In this hushed evening on thy billows grey

Where swells thy chant or whither flows today?

To what far dimness is revealed thy cry?

Thou for my soul prepar'st what ministry?

The conch-shell's sound for vesper worship blown

Is now within my heart thy evening tone;

With frankincense as at a holy tide

Like a dim temple I am purified.

Deep-souled and saved from passion and desire,

To whom then does thy solemn song aspire,

Vast worshipper? whose rites dost thou prepare?

Towards whom holdst thou my soul, a lamp of prayer?

What rhythmic hymn of power dost thou repeat?

Initiate me, Ocean calm, complete

My heart of worship with thy mystic word:

Let all my soul with one wide prayer be stirred.

XXXV

Evening has fallen upon the world; its fitting tone,

O sea, thy quiet bosom gives, making dim moan,

And that wide solemn murmur, passion's ceasing flow,

Becomes a chant of silence for our souls their depths to know.

Thy garrulous waves have sunk to sleep upon thy breast,

The unquiet winds have been persuaded now to rest,

In heaven there is no moon nor star: void ancient space

Settles on all things in its solemn measurelessness.

Is there no last desire left in thy mind today?

Is love then finished for thee? Has life done its play?

Therefore in this illusionless grey twilight lost

Thou plungest down into thyself, unmoved, untossed.

I too will veil myself within my being deep:

Thou when thy musing's done, call me out of my sleep.

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XXXVI

The great heavens have no voice, the world is lying still:

Thou too hast spoken no word awhile, O illimitable.

The evening rains down on thee its calm influences,

Thou liest a motionless flood of purity and peace;

Thy song fallen silent in the first pale cave of night,

Keeps thy heart secret, murmuring with dumb joy of light.

My petty house of pain and pleasure sinks unshaped

In thy vast body by a tranced delight enwrapped:

All Nature floats to thee like a lotus still and sweet,

And Death and Time have paused arrested at thy feet.

Some mighty Yogin keeps his posture on my breast,

Collected, unbreathing, mute, with lids of moveless rest.

The light of Him I have seen, Himself I reach not. O sea,

Silent I'll wait; make me one formless soul with thee.

XXXVII

O by long prayer, by hard attempt have bloomed two flowers, thy eyes!

Swimming with adoration they possess the skies,

And from thy love-intoxicated hymns there start

On tossing waves these new sonatas of the heart.

Heaven falters with the frequent, deep and solemn sound,

The world is gazing as when the great Dance went round.

A horn is blown and cymbals clash upon the Void:

So deep a tabor never to earth's music was allied.

The free winged winds of dawn in their ecstatic dance

Are circling round my soul and seek it with their hands,

The cry of hymns of rapture in my soul's abode

Has entered, flowers of longing bloom from me towards God.

My heart is mad for God today. Though my heart's bliss

Find or not find, sink down or float, — this, only this!

O soul-fulfiller, O adorer, sing for ever

New chants! live still for God-love and divine endeavour.

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XXXVIII

Here there is light, — is it darkness on thy farther shore?

Thither my heart upon thy waters ferry o'er.

Something there rings from that far space;

I know not what its strains express,

Whether 'tis light that sings or darkness cries upon thy shore.

There will I go, my eyes shall see,

My soul shall hear unfalteringly

Anthems of light or strains of darkness on that farther shore.

The songs of this side all are known,

My heart has cherished every tone;

Of these I'll weave remembered garlands on thy far-off shore.

Take me, O mighty sea, across thy long dividing roar.

XXXIX

Burns on that other shore the mystic light

That never was lit here by eve or dawn?

Is't there, the song eternal, infinite,

None ever heard from earthly instruments drawn?

Sits there then any like myself who yearns

Thirsting for unknown touches on the soul?

Is't there, the heart's dream? unsurpassable burns

Thy shadowy self we seek, there bright and whole?

My thirst is great, O mighty One! deep, deep

The thirst is in my heart unsatisfied.

Ah, drown me in thy dumb unfathomed sleep

Or carry to that ungrasped other side.

Will not my hope's dream there be held at last?

My barren soul grow kingly, rich and vast?

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XL

This shore and that shore, — I am tired, they pall.

Where thou art shoreless, take me from it all.

My spirit goes floating and can find oppressed

In thy unbanked immensity only rest.

Thick darkness falls upon my outer part,

A lonely stillness grips the labouring heart,

Dumb weeping with no tears to ease the eyes.

I am mad for thee, O king of mysteries.

Have I not sought thee on a million streams,

And wheresoever the voice of music dreams,

In wondrous lights and sealing shadows caught,

And every night and every day have sought?

Pilot eternal, friend unknown embraced,

O, take me to thy shoreless self at last.

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