The Earthen Goblet 

​O silent goblet! Red from head to heal,

How did you feel

When you were being twirled 

Upon the potter’s wheel 

Before the potter gave you to the world ?

‘I felt conscious impulse in my clay

To break away

From the great potter’s hand that 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 his 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 a form which is death of me

My past unshapely natural state was best

With just one flower flaming through my breast.’

        Written by:- Harindranath Chattopadhaya

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