Earthen Goblet

Earthen Goblet

[conversation between the poet and goblet]

O silent goblet! Red from head to heel,
How did you feel
When you were being twirled
Upon the Potter's wheel
Before the Potter gave you to the world?
I felt a conscious impulse in my clay
To break away
From the great Potter's hand
That burned so warm.
I felt a vast
Feeling of sorrow to be cast
Into my present form.

Before that fatal hour
That saw me captive on the Potter's wheel
And cast into this crimson goblet-sleep,
I used to feel
The fragrant friendship of a little flower
Whose root was in my bosom buried deep.
The Potter has drawn out the living breath of me.
And given me a form which is the death of me;
My past unshapely natural state was best,
With just one flower flaming through my breast.

[By Harindranath Chattopadhyaya]