An Evening Of Rain

An eye had wandered, to another’s beloved, her leg. When, carelessly, her sari lifted just a little - Outside, the rain comes down. A lantern’s been lowered underneath the table, in the dark Now and then the fair lustre of a hidden foot drifts up... The fault is not in the eye. There was no choice but to look. Wasn’t there? Why? -- Rainspray rushes in noisily Wasn’t there? Why? -- Flowering bushes leap on barbed wire Wasn’t there? Why? -- From the one who has no right Everything is concealed by a fringe of embroidered lace... Now the rain has stopped. Now she too has left the room. Only, the breeze returns. Only, like the eye of a powerless man From time to time the lantern beneath the table trembles. [Translated from 'Ekti Brishtir Sandhya' (Bengali) by Oindrila Mukherjee]