Sushila Samad, "Dedication" (translated poem)
Dedication
No fragrance, no pollen remains,
Gone is that beautiful melody.
Yet, it could have still bloomed,
O Lord! In Your beloved garden.
O God! Into Your gentle hands,
I wished to offer this tiny bud.
Counting each passing moment,
But now, that final hour has come.
May its tender form never be crushed,
By the world’s harsh heat and sorrow.
Embrace it, O Lord, and guard it well,
Let no cruel hands reach it tomorrow.
From my desolate garden it comes,
A lone symbol of hope that remains.
For this, I always stayed restless—
Anxious, weary, bearing silent pains.
It holds all the essence of my life,
The soul of that world beyond.
A form distilled from feelings churned,
From the temple of my heart so fond.
O Lord! Into Your noble hands today,
I offer it with humble grace.
Even in these darkest days of mine,
I feel I’m blessed, embraced by fate.
This translation was assisted by ChatGPT.
Source: https://www.hindwi.org/kavita/samarpan-sushila-samad-kavita-5