Perchance my sensitiveness to pain has
sprung from my limited uncomprehending
understanding. True, in my own eyes I
grow from ugliness to beauty, from ignorance
to knowledge, from slavery to freedom, from
sin to holiness. I make progress in culture
and civilisation--but I rise to the zenith
only to descend to the nadir.
Henceforth I will seek new and inward space for
my progress. In the coming age I will
seek to bore a tunnel in the spirit, to find an
inner path to the Divinity of my Heart.
But I will not destroy the bridges which I
have built during the past ages, linking
this earth with the distant divinity of suns
and moons and stars.
I will be free, glorious, and immortal.
_The Voice ceases._
_Śrī Ānanda Āchārya._
All this is rhythm.
May-fields, child-hearts, evening skies,
Grow corn and wisdom and stars
By the throb of rhythm;
And Muses from the Milky Way
Nightly visit
The sleeping poet’s downy pillow
By the law of rhythm;
And angels bring him faces
Flushed with morning’s rose,
Tinted with even’s quiet,
By the sweet impulse of rhythm.
Wait, O soul!
Outside thy door, upon the green,
Heaven stands expectant,
Waiting to be ushered in
By Rhythm,
Just now--or perchance to-morrow.
_Śrī Ānanda Āchārya._
From “Usarika.”
Friend, dwell thou
within my ruby-lotus heart of dreams;
Friend, see thyself
in the diamond mirror of my heart of hopes;
Friend, sport with me
in the garden-walks of my heart, fringed with everlastings;
Friend, sleep thou on the shore of the song-throated
ocean of my heart;
Friend, shine in me
like sunlight in the heart of a rose-bud of jade.
_Śrī Ānanda Āchārya._
From “Usarika.”
Thou art the rose,
I am the honey;
Thou drinkest the light
of the four heavens,
And my soul is suffused
with the rainbow of seven tints;
I give myself
to the bees
And become a song
on the wings of winds
that sing to the gods
and the fleecy clouds
and the sleeping children of Life.
_Śrī Ānanda Āchārya._
From “Usarika” (Dawn-Rhythms).
Snow-blossoms,
snow-blossoms,
Are
you alive?
In your heart
I see
the image
of
the heavens,
the disc
of
the sun,
And
when clouds
veil
the face
of
the sky
I see
your facets
tinted
with
the ink
of
dark sorrow.
Children of Varun,
sweet guests
of
late Autumn,
you too
hear
the whispers
of
Immortality.
Like
our village sons,
dwelling
in
lighted cottages
by
the gloom-canopied
graves
of
their departed
ancestors.
_Śrī Ānanda Āchārya._
From “Saki” (The Comrade).
The
rose of eternity
is
my heart,
the
sun-gold honey
is
my love
for
my Saki,
the
honey-bees
are
my sighs and songs,
the
river
is
my feeling
of
life,
and
the light
of
my Saki’s
eyes
is
the true life
of
the red rose.
What
grey dews
or
blind canker
can harm
this
ever-smiling
rose
of
my heart?
_Śrī Ānanda Āchārya._
From “Saki.”
The blue
of
Indra
is
thy laughter
frozen
into
the
sky-ocean
and
these stars
and
this earth
are
frozen lilies
and
we
living creatures
are
frozen bees.
O Saki,
laugh
no
more.
_Śrī Ānanda Āchārya._
From “Saki.”
The shadow
of
a
flying bird
across
the
sun’s disc
fell
on
the
still floor
of
my morning-quiet
cave
and
vanished--
Like
the memory
of
one
who
passing
through
the
bright shade
of
my garden trees
of
early days
entered
into
the
deep shadows
of
another’s
garden trees.
_Śrī Ānanda Āchārya._
From “Saki.”
LOVE’S _SAMĀDHI_[19]
Ah, Love, I sink in the timeless sleep,
Sink in the timeless sleep;
One Image stands before my eyes,
And thrills my bosom’s deep:
One Vision bathes in radiant light
My spirit’s palace-halls;
All stir of hand, all throb of brain,
Quivers, and sinks, and falls.
My soul fares forth; no fetters now
Chain me to this world’s shore.
Sleep! I would sleep! In pity spare;
Let no man wake me more!
_Nārāyan Vāman Tilak._
A CRADLE SONG
Hush thee, hush thee, baby Christ,
Lord of all mankind,--
Thou the happy lullaby
Of my mind.
Hush thee, hush thee, Jesus, Lord,
Stay of all that art,--
Thou the happy lullaby
Of my heart.
Hush thee, hush thee, home of peace,--
Lo! Love lying there!--
Thou the happy lullaby
Of my care.
Hush thee, hush thee, Soul of mine,
Setting all men free--
Thou the happy lullaby
Of the whole of me.
_Nārāyan Vāman Tilak._
THE WAY OF POVERTY
Thou hadst no servants to attend on Thee;
Then why this pomp of household state for me?
Coarse fare and scanty was Thy portion, Lord;
Then why for me this richly-furnished board?
Thou hadst not where to lay Thy head to rest;
Then why should I of mansions be possessed?
Ah, hapless I! What is this tyranny?
How dost Thou laugh and make a mock of me!
Ah, take from me this burden that doth bow
My head! blest ocean of all love art Thou!
I speak in anger, Lord; yet, if Thou too
Reject my prayer, what can Thy servant do?
Saith Dāsa, Christ, upon Thy pallet-bed
Grant me a little space to lay my head.
_Nārāyan Vāman Tilak._
THE LAST PRAYER
Lay me within Thy lap to rest;
Around my head Thine arm entwine;
Let me gaze up into Thy face,
O Father-Mother mine!
So let my spirit pass with joy,
Now at the last, O Tenderest!
Saith Dāsa, Grant Thy wayward child
This one, this last request.
_Nārāyan Vāman Tilak._
UNION WITH CHRIST
As the moon and its beams are one,
So that I be one with Thee,
This is my prayer to Thee, my Lord,
This is this beggar’s plea.
I would snare Thee and hold Thee ever,
In loving wifely ways;
I give Thee a daughter’s welcome,
I give Thee a sister’s praise.
As words and their meaning are linked,
Serving one purpose each,
Be Thou and I so knit, O Lord,
And through me breathe Thy speech.
O be my soul a mirror clear,
That I may see Thee there;
Dwell in my thought, my speech, my life,
Making them glad and fair.
Take Thou this body, O my Christ,
Dwell as its soul within;
To be an instant separate
I count a deadly sin.
_Nārāyan Vāman Tilak._
PEACE
It is the hour of sunset, and the sky
Is robed in purple, as a lovely bride
With ruby lips and veil thrown half aside,
Waiting for her sweet lord with longing eye.
The air is fresh and fragrant, and the sea
In smiling joy its boundless bosom heaves,
With ringing music of the rising waves;
And far from here its weary whisper leaves
The broken echo of a world that raves;
Its murmur hushed in new-born notes of glee.
* * * * *
Lulled by the laughter of the sky and earth,
The heart forgets her sorrow and suspends
Her breath in silent rapture and descends
Upon the soul the vision of its birth.
Immeasurable waters! and the sky
Immeasurable! and this wondrous light
In rainbow smiles of India, all around--
Resting and rocking and rolling in delight,
And swelling with the mirth of many a sound
That fills the ocean’s ears unceasingly.
* * * * *
And now the mantle of approaching night
Falls gently o’er the drowsy eyes of day;
The roseate glow of evening melts away,
Softly beyond the western waves, to white.
Now o’er the earth a veil of mystery
In silver silence all around is spread;
And not a sound is heard or sight is seen
Except the lingering echoes hither led
Of boatmen’s shouts, and distant lights between
The mingling bosoms of the sky and sea.
* * * * *
The moon hath risen, and the stars appear,
And heaven is watching with the eyes of light;
And in my heart a newer hope is bright
With varied splendours of the atmosphere.
The mind is hushed and all its motions cease
Of wayward fancy and unquiet thought;
And in the happy island of the soul
Awakes a joy in radiance unforgot--
Which o’er the world’s tumultuous uncontrol
Doth smile, and softly whisper, “Here is Peace!”
_Nanikram Vasanmal Thadani._
FOOTNOTES:
[1] The new leaves are red, _are_ the rosy kisses. Also, _palas_ and
pomegranate both have red blossoms.
[2] This poem deliberately takes off from the loveliest of all Bengali
popular songs, Ramprasad’s “This day will surely pass, this day will
pass” (see _Bengali Religious Lyrics_, Thompson and Spencer, Oxford
University Press).
[3] India has six seasons to our four.
[4] Urvasi, in older (_i.e._ Sanskrit) mythology, is a famous courtesan
and dancing-girl at the court of Indra, King of the Gods. Her
adventures were many; she was often sent to lure sages aside from their
devotions, lest they obtained super-divine powers and threatened the
dominion of the Gods (see stanza 4). But in Tagore’s poem she is very
much more than her legendary character. The poem is a tangle--Indian
mythology, modern science, European romance. She is the cosmic spirit
of life, in the mazes of its eternal dance; she is Beauty dissociated
from all human relationships; she is that world-enchanting Love which
(though not in Dante’s sense) “moves the sun and other stars,” is
Lucretius’s _hominum divumque voluptas, Alma Venus_, is Swinburne’s
“perilous goddess,” “sea-foam-born.”
I have adopted a quasi-metrical form which I hope will indicate the
general outline of the stanza in which this magnificent ode is written.
[5] When the Gods churned the Ocean, to recover the lost nectar of
immortality, Urvasi first appeared, one of many good and bad things
that came to light. With the nectar came out poison, which threatened
the life of all creatures, till Siva drank it to save the worlds.
Tagore has invented Urvasi’s responsibility for the nectar and poison
being brought forth; at any rate, I know of no other authority for line
4 of this stanza.
[6] A jasmine.
[7] In Sanskrit mythology, heaven, the atmosphere, and earth; in later
mythology, generally heaven, earth, and the underworld.
[8] In Indian mythology, there are Mounts of Sunrise and Sunsetting.
[9] From the _Mādhabī_.
[10] Sanskrit Urvasī.
[11] _I.e._ the _vīnā_, the lute.
[12] From the _Kanyādhūp_.
[13] From the _Patralekha_.
[14] From the _Patralekha_.
[15] “Spring fifth” is the fifth day of the light fortnight of the
month of Māgh, when Sarasvati, the goddess of letters and wisdom, who
loves the _vīnā_, lute, is worshipped. The month of Māgh corresponds to
January-February.
[16] I.e. the goddess who carries the _vīnā_, or lute, in her hand.
[17] The thousand-headed snake of Heaven.
[18] _Seli_, or the small round string made of black wool that Guru
Nanak used to wear at times.
[19] _Samādhi_ is the mystic’s “ecstasy,” in which all consciousness of
the material world is lost and the soul is face to face with the Real.