Shankha Vishwajanin
Shankha Vishwajanin in Bengali



I offer you these flowers
As I know they'll keep giving
Till they diminish to nothing;
And I can never do the same.
I recite these mantras of the ancient rishis,
As I can never write my own;
My faith is too feeble,
My skills lacking, my doubts strong.

Scores of sacrifices at your altar
Are offered with love;
But of those so offered,
Not even one is wilful.
This love, this cruelty,
Seem strange, however sincere;
In this world of "opposite"s,
Our devotion is distorted and your grace surely
Doubtful.

But if I ever have
Chaitanya's love and Tagore's skill,
I can promise you every dawn
Devotion beyond flowers and
mantras my own;
And if these still seem lacking,
I'll try one last time to adorn your altar
With a sacrifice
That will be wilful.




In the west
There is a lot of waste,
And many a waist
Are bare;
In the east,
When we ask for a feast,
We see a fist,
And people rarely even care!

In the west,
Running after money does never rest,
And in haste,
People are always on the go;
In the east,
Jobs do hardly exist,
And people insist
Only the party people have all the dough.

In the west,
They feel it's best,
If only part in jest,
To record some actions;
In the east,
Actions aren't seen even in the least,
Only in reactions they need to persist,
If they have elections.

But the east will merge with the west,
And this you can test
If you keep going
Always to the east;
Our world is round
And things will cycle around -
For the east-west story,
This is essentially the gist.

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