Once when the Ajay was young and strong
Proud of its strength in its sharp current
From the mountains brought down a lot of sand.
In time these sands all heaped in its bed
Brought by its own strong current
And by and by took away its strength
It fell back on its own way
And became the captive of sands
But now when the rains come
The currents become muddy
And flow over the sands.
Remembering its folly of earlier times
Ajay becomes mad for revenge
In boundless rage it destroys all.
When in a festive mood
The Ashwin comes in all white
In welcome Ajay cannot sing a suitable song
In its distant shore the reeds sway
And shiuli blossoms far away
Autumn descends on its dry sandy bed
Moonbeams smile in its many small puddles
Ajay bears its shame of poverty in deep silence
The little known river has now lost its way.
Transcreation of the poem Ajay Nadi from the collection Chharar Chhabi by Rabindranath Tagore.