Agami (The Morrow) -Sukanta Bhattacharya

Neither inanimate nor dead, nor from the dark of a mine,

I am but a living being, a seed sprouting fine;

Nurtured by the soil, timid, only to the call of the sky azure

While dreams girdle me, I open my eyes unsure.

Though not significant, amongst the perennials, I am trifle

In this tiny shoot, still does play a silent rustle.

Ripping through the earth, I can see the sunshine trickle gold

So in my root lies the noble consciousness of forests age-old.

Today only a sprout, I know, but leaflets not far behind

Will toss their heads tomorrow accompanying the fierce wind:

Then out I will spread my proud arms before all,

And bloom flowers that will stun my neighbours tall.

In the mighty storm, stays united every root of mine

As my branches hinder, its strength will only decline.

The friends, who, only to my summons raise their heads

The fresh woods’ anthem among them will reverberate.

Come the spring, we’d blend with the giants’ grove

All would welcome the blooms who triumphed and throve.

Neither insignificant nor trifle, I am the future tree

The rain and the earth from her pith and core, agree.

The day you walk in my shade: and an axe if you draw,

Time and again I’ll beckon you with my blossom laden bough

And bestow upon you my fruits, flowers and even the song of birds you find

The same earth has nourished (me), your own kin if not your kind!