The Ecstasy of Destruction
(Original: Proloyollash)

Kazi Nazrul Islam

Translation: Kabir Chowdhury

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Come, make merry and rejoice.
There rages the summer storm
        flying the flag of the New and the Young,

There comes he who had not come so long; 
        Dancing merrily
        drink we will the joy of destruction. 
There comes the Terrible
        like the fierce executioner of eternal time 
        across the dark well of death 
        through smouldering smoke 
        lighting the torch of thunder.
There, listen to his ringing laughter. 
Come, make merry and rejoice!

The wavy locks of his hair
        make the sky rock and swing.
Even the ominous comet is at his service. 
His blood, like an unsheathed sword,
        rocks the bosom of the father of the universe.
Look, this wild tumultuous tunnoil
        has made the sky and the earth still and numb
Come, make merry and rejoice.

A dozen suns glitter and shine in his burning eyes 
And the sorrows of the world cluster in his
        tangled and disheveled hair.
 A single drop of his tear
        makes the seven seas roll and swell.
In his giant arms he crakles the mother-earth 
        and cries out, "Welcome, Destruction!"
Come, comrades, make merry and rejoice, ' 

Oh, have no fear! 
The deluge will soon overtake the universe. 
The final hour is fast drawing near.
The rotting old and the dying decrepit 
        will now be wiped out for good.
Now at last at the end of the long night of darkness 
The glorious dawn will come with a smile
in her soft and tender dress.
Look, there the young moon shines in his unkempt hair.

Its light will fill your room
        and make it glow with a strange radiance, 
Come, make merry and rejoice!
There he comes flashing his whip of blood and lightning,
        directing the passage of eternity.
The neighing of his horse reverberates in the stormy wind
and in the song of thunder. 
The blast of his hoofs hits the stars 
        and scatters them shooting
        through the columns of the blue-domed sky. 
The gods are all lying in the dead well 
        of a dark dungeon.

They are tied to the cold stony pillar 
        of the sacriticial altar. 
Indeed this is the time for him
        to come triumphantly riding his gorgeous chariot. 
O comrades, come, make merry and rejoice!
Why should the sight of destruction frighten you? 
All this upheaval is but the birth pain
            of a new creation. 
There comes the bold new youth
            eager to wipe out all that is ugly and decayed.
He comes with' his unkempt hair and careless dress 
            on the wings of the Deluge 
            with a smile on his lips. 
He is the eternal beauty
        who knows how to destroy and build again, 

Come, make merry and rejoice! 
What fear has he
        for whom all this destruction and rebuilding
        is but a game?
Come, make merry and rejoice, 
        and welcome the Beautiful
        who comes today in the garb of the Terrible.

Courtesy: Mohammad Nurul Huda. Poetry of Kazi Nazrul Islam in English Translation [Dhaka: Nazrul Institute, 2000). pp. 4-6.