Holding the oar tightly
he looks at the tide;
The rivers are broad and deep
The creeks are full.
It’s midnight.
Over his head,
the silent universe and the crescent moon
keenly observe this young fisher.
He looks at the forest;
The forest quickly drops a shadow
On his face,
Under his eyes;
And he smiles in his mind.
At this moment
When you see him
holding his oar,
looking at the tide, forest, and river
smiling;
You will certainly know
He is yours.
Kolkata, W. B.
