A hundred years from now
Who could you be
Reading my poem curiously
A hundred years from now!
How can I transmit to you who are so far away
A bit of the joy I feel this day,
At this new spring dawn,
The beauty of flowers this day
Songbirds that keep chirping away
Of the crimson glow of the setting sun.
How can I lave them all with my love,
And hope you will make them your own
A hundred years from now?

However, if you keep you southern door ajar,
Sit by your window and look afar
View the horizon stretch endlessly
And imagine this possibility —
That one day a hundred years from now,
Excitement from some heaven above could flow
Could strike your inmost heart and make it glow,
That on a bright spring day
When you were feeling restless and carefree —
There could blow with the southern breeze,
Impatient and eager to please,
Flying on restless wings,
Full of pollen and the scent of flowers,
And of what youth desires,
An impulse from me that could make your soul sway.
At a time a hundred years away!
A soul carried away by the tunes
Overwhelmed by the flowers on display,
Had then burst into poetry,
A hundred years from now!

A hundred years from now
Who will that new poet be
Singing in your festival merrily?
I send him my spring greetings —
Hoping he will make them his own
Let my spring song resound in your spring day
For a while let my tune stay —
In the fluttering of your soul, the humming bees,
And murmuring in leaves,
A hundred years from now!

— Rabindranath Tagore – “Aaji Hote Shata Barsha Pare” – from Chitra (translated by Fakrul Alam)

A Hundred Years from Now

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