The Bengali Book of English Verse/On Tibet (Roby Datta)
ROBY DUTT,
1883-1918.
On Tibet.
Deep in the bosom dark of mystery,
Housed in the gleam of days that are no more
And dreams that like her Himalayas soar
To height incredible—methinks I see
The land of mystic faith and lamas hoar!
A glamour thro' the creeping sunset steals,
Weird Tibet, o'er thy snow-encircled brow;
A glamour from the Occident, that now,
Silent, pursues thy gloom-engirdled heels,
Mother of fossil modes and customs thou!
Thou mighty miracle of centuries,
To us, the dwellers in the setting sun,
Perpetual dream-land, child of sunrise dun,
Who "teasest out of thought" man's memories,
Grim in thy glory, till thy race be run!
Land of the faith by pensive Buddha rear'd,
Where thought is stable, prayers are roll'd by wheels,
Faith moves with a dull motion as she feels
Her way thro' gloom of births, where Fate is fear'd,
God is unknown, and man in darkness reels!