DR PRITHWINDRA MUKHERJEE  - 4

Poems by Sri Rabindranath Tagore all translated from original Bengali by Dr Prithwindra Mukherjee 

 

Duty

 

My valet did not turn up in the morning.

The door remains open ajar.   

 

No water waiting for my bath,

The imbecile was absent last night.

I do not know where   

 

He keeps my clean clothes,

Nor how to prepare my breakfast!

The clock goes on tick tocking   

 

In extreme annoyance

 I wait for my turn to censure him.

Very late, at last   

 

He appears with a salute

And stands with folded hands.

At the top of my anger   

 

I bid him : “Get out,

 I do not want to see you any more.”

On hearing this, dumb-founded   

 

For a very short while

He gazes at my face,

Before uttering in a broken voice:   

 

“In the dead of last night

 My little daughter is dead.”

Immediately, on announcing this He takes the duster on his shoulder

To attend his lonely chore.

Like all other days   

 

Scrubbing, cleaning, sweeping, all

He leaves nothing undone.

 

[Chaitali, 1896]  In a letter dated 14 August 1895, from Shilaidah, Tagore mentioned how one morning he had got crossed with his khansama’s (cook) coming late; having informed him of his daughter’s death, the man had silently resumed his chores. Elsewhere Tagore recognized that the functional distance that had existed between them was lifted at once, in the solidarity of two men, both of them fathers of young daughters...

 

Warning to Civilization

 

Give us back that forest, take this city away,

Take away all this iron, brick, wood and stone,

O young civilization ! All-devouring, O merciless,

Give back that sacred and shadowy hermitage,

Days immaculate, evenings spent in bathing,

That pasture, that solemn chanting of hymns,

Handfuls of that wild rice, that bark-made loin-cloth,

Plunged in the self, the accustomed dialogue

On the great principles. Inside your stony cage

We refuse a newfangled secure and regal feast :

We want liberty, we want vast wingspan,

We want to recover in the chest our strength,

We want to feel in the heart by shattering all bonds

The heartbeats of this endless universe.

 

[Chaitali, 1896]

 

Princess Puntu

 

The noon of April keeps on lingering.

The earth is thirsty by the scorching day.

At such a moment I heard outside

Someone summoning : “Come, Princess Puntu.”

Near the solitary river bank under midday heat

My curiosity cropped up by that affectionate voice.

On closing my book I rose leisurely,

Half opened the door to peep outside.

An enormous buffalo smeared with mud

Was waiting on the riverside with tender eyes.

Standing in the water, a youngman was calling

To bathe her : “Come, O Princess Puntu !”

On gazing at that youngman and gazing at his Princess

My amusement was moist with serenity.

 

[Chaitali, 1896]

 

The Ignorant

 

Let those who with eyes closed wish to meditate

Acquire the knowledge whether the creation is real or an illusion.

In the meanwhile sitting with my insatiate gaze

I contemplate the creation in broad daylight.

 

[Chaitali, 1896] 

 

The Muse (5)

 

You have not been created by God alone, O woman,

Man has moulded you by culling from within

Your beauty. An assembly of poets

Weave a web with golden threads of similes,

By superimposing an ever-new glamour on you

Sculptors go on immortalizing your image.

Ever so many hues and perfumes and ornaments –

Pearls from oceans and gold from mines,

Wreathes of flowers from springtime woods,

Insects shed their lives to redden your feet. (6)

Bestowing on you modesty and decoration and garments

He has rarefied you by concealing.

An ardent desire deflecting on you,

By half you are human, and imagination by half.

 

[Chaitali, 1896]

5. Manasi, ”She who is born out of Manas” : in Indian Philosophy, Manas is the 6th Sense which precedes and guides the five others.

6. Lac (alaktak or aaltaa in Bangla) , secreted by an insect, used as cosmetics

 

True Relation

 

The infatuated pumpkin considers

Its bamboo trellis to be a mythical aeroplane. (7)

By contempt never looks down on earth,

Saluting as brothers the moon, the sun and the stars.

Convinced to be a celestial being,

It sighs while contemplating the Void.

It thinks that only the stem, too coarse,

Clings it to the earth as its kith and kin.

In no time, once getting rid of that stem

It can soar at will to its luminous sphere.

Once the stem severed, it understood well

The sun is not its relative, the earth is its all in all.

 

[Kanika, “Morsels”,1899]

 

7. Pushpak Rath (Flying Flower Chariot), in the Indian epics

 

Rivalry

 

There was contest between a hornet and a bee,

Both disputing to determine who was the stronger.

The hornet argued : there are thousand proofs

That you cannot sting as hard as I do.

The bee remained speechless with tearful eyes.

The Goddess of the forest came to whisper in her ears :

Why are you crestfallen ? It is true, O Child,

You lag behind in poison, but you are victorious in honey.

 

[Kanika, “Morsels”,1899]

 

Diplomacy

 

The axe proposed : I beg of you, O Sal (8) !

I have no handle, spare me a branch.

As soon as the branch took the shape of a handle,

The beggar forgot to think anymore :

It started hewing the trunk right from the root,

The poor Sal lost its notion of beginning and end.

 

[Kanika, “Morsels”,1899]

 

 8. Shorea robusta Gaetern, tall and robust trees : the leaves are used for packing eatables.

 

Relationship

 

A kerosene flame threatens the oil lamp :

If you call me brother, I shall throttle you.

Meanwhile, as the moon rises in the sky,

The kerosene calls out : Welcome, big brother !

 

Gift of the humble

 

The desert regrets : You bring so much water for me, a poor creature,

What can I offer you in return ? I possess nothing !

Replies the cloud : I ask nothing, O desert,

You grant me the pleasure of making you a gift.

 

[Kanika, “Morsels”,1899]

 

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