Gedicht
Jit Narain
Working all day, dreaming at night
Working all day, dreaming at night –Aja’s appearance is something like mine.
My ship was not called Lalla Rookh
and my country’s name became Holland, meneer.
I flew KLM, I left Surinam.
When the memory of you arose,
I went in search of history.
The sap of this story is not sacred nectar,
the feeling it gives holds my mind in its grip.
Why he left India, that I can fathom;
that India never left him, is the burden I bear.
Working all day, dreaming at night
Din ke ham kám kari, rát ke dekhi sapná,
ájá ke surat láge, thorá-thorá apná.
Hamár jahajwá ke nám ná Lálá Rookhwá
deswá ke nám bhail Nederland, babuá.
K.L.M. se urli ham chorli Sarnamwá
yád jab tor áil khoje calli itihaswá
Ekar kathá ke ras ná hai pancámritwá
kathwá ke kassak kas ke kasle bá mor citwá
Káhen u Bhárat choris, ito ham samjhilá
Bhárat oke náhi choris, uto ham sahilá
ájá ke surat láge, thorá-thorá apná.
Hamár jahajwá ke nám ná Lálá Rookhwá
deswá ke nám bhail Nederland, babuá.
K.L.M. se urli ham chorli Sarnamwá
yád jab tor áil khoje calli itihaswá
Ekar kathá ke ras ná hai pancámritwá
kathwá ke kassak kas ke kasle bá mor citwá
Káhen u Bhárat choris, ito ham samjhilá
Bhárat oke náhi choris, uto ham sahilá
© 1991, Jit Narain
From: Agni ke yad / yad ke rakhi. Ter Herinnering aan Agni / de as van de herinnering
Publisher: SSN, Den Haag/Paramaribo
From: Agni ke yad / yad ke rakhi. Ter Herinnering aan Agni / de as van de herinnering
Publisher: SSN, Den Haag/Paramaribo
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Working all day, dreaming at night
Din ke ham kám kari, rát ke dekhi sapná,ájá ke surat láge, thorá-thorá apná.
Hamár jahajwá ke nám ná Lálá Rookhwá
deswá ke nám bhail Nederland, babuá.
K.L.M. se urli ham chorli Sarnamwá
yád jab tor áil khoje calli itihaswá
Ekar kathá ke ras ná hai pancámritwá
kathwá ke kassak kas ke kasle bá mor citwá
Káhen u Bhárat choris, ito ham samjhilá
Bhárat oke náhi choris, uto ham sahilá
From: Agni ke yad / yad ke rakhi. Ter Herinnering aan Agni / de as van de herinnering
Working all day, dreaming at night
Working all day, dreaming at night –Aja’s appearance is something like mine.
My ship was not called Lalla Rookh
and my country’s name became Holland, meneer.
I flew KLM, I left Surinam.
When the memory of you arose,
I went in search of history.
The sap of this story is not sacred nectar,
the feeling it gives holds my mind in its grip.
Why he left India, that I can fathom;
that India never left him, is the burden I bear.
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