---- selected poems from Gitanjali by Rabindranath Tagore -----
Clouds heap upon clouds and it darkens.
Ah, love, why dost thou let me wait outside at the door all alone?
In the busy moments of the noontide work I am with the crowd, but on this dark lonely day it is only for thee that I hope.
If thou showest me not thy face, if thou leavest me wholly aside, I know not how I am to pass these long, rainy hours.
I keep gazing on the far-away gloom of the sky,and my heart wanders wailing with the restless wind.
~~~~~
I came out alone on my way to my tryst. But who is this that follows me in the silent dark?
I move aside to avoid his presence but I escape him not.
He makes the dust rise from the earth with his swagger; he adds his loud voice to every word that I utter.
He is my own little self, my lord, he knows no shame; but I am ashamed to come to your door in his company.
~~~~~~
Clouds heap upon clouds and it darkens.
Ah, love, why dost thou let me wait outside at the door all alone?
In the busy moments of the noontide work I am with the crowd, but on this dark lonely day it is only for thee that I hope.
If thou showest me not thy face, if thou leavest me wholly aside, I know not how I am to pass these long, rainy hours.
I keep gazing on the far-away gloom of the sky,and my heart wanders wailing with the restless wind.
~~~~~
I came out alone on my way to my tryst. But who is this that follows me in the silent dark?
I move aside to avoid his presence but I escape him not.
He makes the dust rise from the earth with his swagger; he adds his loud voice to every word that I utter.
He is my own little self, my lord, he knows no shame; but I am ashamed to come to your door in his company.
~~~~~~
If thou speakest not I will fill my heart with thy silence and endure it. I will keep still and wait like the night with starry vigil and its head bent low with patience.
The morning will surely come, the darkness will vanish, and thy voice pour down in golden streams breaking through the sky.
Then thy words will take wing in songs from every one of my birds' nests, and thy melodies will br forth in flowers in all my forest groves.
~~~~~~~~~
Leave this chanting and singing and telling of beads! Whom dost thou worship in this lonely dark corner of a temple with doors all shut? Open thine eyes and see thy God is not before thee!
He is there where the tiller is tilling the hard ground and where the pathmaker is breaking stones. He is with them in sun and in shower, and his garment is covered with dust. Put of thy holy mantle and even like him come down on the dusty soil!
Deliverance? Where is this deliverance to be found? Our master himself has joyfully taken upon him the bonds of creation; he is bound with us all for ever.
Come out of thy meditations and leave aside thy flowers and incense! What harm is there if thy clothes become tattered and stained? Meet him and stand by him in toil and in sweat of thy brow.
I will rather make my own addition here. This is a poem I like very much. It says about the surprise of final encounter of a soulmate bringing happiness and cheer in one’s life at life’s unexpected moment. What I really like about the poem is that it metaphorically portrays the reason for living through the eyes of a romantic. The subject is the physical search for a companion or a 'soulmate' and the main theme being that the choice of that one is predestined. Examining the imagery, we see how Tagore uses the physical search to represent an emotional search. The search through a forest represents the search for true love; the lightning represents destiny, which the poem sees as the final end of the search
ReplyDelete'On the Nature of Love'
The night is black and the forest has no end;
a million people thread it in a million ways.
We have trysts to keep in the darkness, but where
or with whom -- of that we are unaware.
But we have this faith -- that a lifetime's bliss
will appear any minute, with a smile upon its lips.
Scents, touches, sounds, snatches of songs
brush us, pass us, give us delightful shocks.
Then peradventure there's a flash of lightning:
whomever I see that instant I fall in love with.
I call that person and cry: 'This life is blest!
For your sake such miles have I traversed!'
All those others who came close and moved off
in the darkness -- I don't know if they exist or not.
-- Rabrindranath Tagore
(From Chaitali (1896), Translated from Bengali by Ketaki Kushari Dyson)
I find your poems far better and much more expressive. I am being true and honest. One of the reasons could be that these are translations. Dear Allahdeen, I come here looking for your creations. Please oblige. :)
ReplyDelete