On a lazy morning, the unruly wind Makes the mind drift away in abstraction. Promises of arrival made at unearthly hours Only leave the heart restless. The entire courtyard is heavy with regrets here; If you must come, what hope will you bring? Why come for no reason at all, Only to be subjected to blame and reproach? Look…… My entire body is covered With the scars of bitter stings. Cruel destiny keeps walking away After inflicting endless pain. Even a distant bird, coming from afar, Does not lose its way here. Look at my plight during the day— A miserable, incomprehensible state. In the month of Phalguna, you had promised to play with colors, And build a palace of seven-colored dreams. But a house cannot be built on the palm of mere promises; To build a home of love, It is essential for hands to join with hands. — Ratnamaya Tripathy Adhyayana, Balangir —————–Original Odia : Ratnamaya Tripathy Translated by : Dr. Khyatimaya Tripathy Want to read this poem in Odia ? Click Here Want to read this poem in Hindi ? Click Here

Just now, into the five elements, A body dissolved and merged. Along with that body, burned away All the sorrows of her life, Her grievances and silent hurts (Abhimana), And the stories of the Puranas she had gathered. That joyful smile visible from a distance, And the hand of affection over my head—all are gone. The sweet cry of "Mausi" (Aunt) Has been lost from the lips forever. To recall a passage from the scriptures, I can no longer make a loving demand of her. If I pass by the road near her house And alter my path to avoid her, There is no one left to scold me anymore. Above and beyond all earthly honors, Where shall I find a place worthy of you, Mausi...? In the lamp I have lit for you, I will pour my deepest offerings of reverence and respect. — Ratnamaya Tripathy Adhyayana, Balangir —————–Original Odia : Ratnamaya Tripathy Translated by : Dr. Khyatimaya Tripathy Want to read this poem in Odia ? Click Here Want to read this poem in Hindi ? Click Here

In a river that is slowly drying up, Becoming a tributary And wishing to keep it forever flowing; To a loosening, weakening grip of the hand, Extending their own hand To make that hold even stronger; Covering up every falsehood, And providing the immense courage To look the absolute truth in the eye; Piercing through the hard rocky floor to rise above, Becoming both the anchoring root and the nourishing fertilizer... All such noble souls... are indeed true friends. — Ratnamaya Tripathy Adhyayana, Balangir —————–Original Odia : Ratnamaya Tripathy Translated by : Dr. Khyatimaya Tripathy Want to read this poem in Odia ? Click Here Want to read this poem in Hindi ? Click Here

A darkness so deep That even one's own shadow cannot be seen, Now feels incredibly comforting. Dreams come, Indifferent to whether it is The new moon or the full moon night. On the roof, the pigeons While pecking at broken grains of rice, Etch a faint, hazy picture. Sometimes, that image appears clear, Sometimes, it comes alive and terrifies. It places a condition of absolute silence Upon all hidden, dark secrets. The promises that departed saying, "Look... I am coming back right away," Never return. Those who do return, Get lost along the chaotic paths of daily chores And completely forget. While bidding farewell to spring from the cycle of seasons, She had asked for a handful of Abir (colored powder). Because I failed to give it to her, The month of Phalguna remains upset to this day. Just now, The feet that were turned back From the upper step to the lower step, Ask— Whose picture is that...? What is the secret behind it...? The feet that were advancing forward, Gradually begin to retreat. The silent, answerless lips Along with the helpless body, And its innocent shadow, Slowly dissolve and vanish into the darkness. — Ratnamaya Tripathy Adhyayana, Balangir —————–Original Odia : Ratnamaya Tripathy Translated by : Dr. Khyatimaya Tripathy Want to read this poem in Odia ? Click Here Want to read this poem in Hindi ? Click Here