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Surendra Jha 'Suman'

To The Tree

You have taught the world
How to bend low at the hour of delivering fruit.
If one seeks your shelter
You have not considered undesirable
The giving of alms to even one who is your hewer !

If I have the aim of
Waiting all my life for promotion,
I shall, O great teacher, be initiated by you
Into the mysteries of life.

On your upper branch is sitting the bird
Which is the source of all knowledge, O never falling one,
Your lower half is worshipped as the source of life;
Stupefied, I do not quite understand.

In your honour
Well, the vernal breeze fans you
As if with chamar hairs;
Clouds sprinkle water;
And Earth herself provides you with a seat to sit.

In your honour
The Sun burns the incense for days together;
The Moon sprinkles her dews as the waters of sandal;
The Glow-worm kindles the lamp;
And Night herself keeps the vigil. *

* An excerpt from the poem.

Translated by Jayakanta Mishra


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