“Jete pari, kintu keno jabo? / I can, but why should I leave?”

Written by the late Shakti Chattopadhyay (and published in a collection of poems in 1982), this sentence of enormous simplicity has become a catchphrase in Bangla. Most educated Bengalis would have heard and spoken the sentence at some time or other. Many a time, I believe, these words would have changed the course of their thoughts.

Having crossed the decrepit milestone of seventy years some time ago, I think of leaving more often than before. This morning too, as I read the poem, it didn’t fail to shake me up, like every other time I read it. 

Here is a feeble attempt to translate the poem. I would love to hear what you think of the English version.

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I can, but why should I leave? 

Shakti Chattopadhyay >>>

I think maybe, it would be better to turn back.

I’ve dipped my two hands in so much darkness

For so long!

I’ve never thought of you as the you you are.

Nowadays, when I stand beside an abyss at night,

The moon calls me, ‘Come, come, come!’

These days, when a sleepy I stand on the bank of the Ganga,

Woods from the pyre call me, ‘Come, come!’

Yes, I can go

I can go along any path I choose

But, why should I?

I will hold my child in my arms and kiss her once

I will go, but I won’t go just now

I will take you all with me

I won’t go now

When it’s not the time.

 

Translated in Cupertino, California

On 7 July 2023

 

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একাকী যাবো না অসময়ে।।

 

Photo courtesy:  https://www.observerbd.com/2016/03/24/143159.php