The draught of songs. …/Tagore for Today


Rain-laden clouds at twilight. North, Sri Lanka. Photograph┬ęChulie de Silva

You have drunk the draught of songs

that I poured for you,

and accepted the garland of woven dreams.

My heart straying in the wilderness

was ever touched by the pain that was your own

touch.

When my days are done, my leave-taking hushed

in a final silence,

my voice will linger in the autumn light

and rain-laden clouds

with the message that we had met.

Rabindranath Tagore.

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2 thoughts on “The draught of songs. …/Tagore for Today

  1. As I said before, he is one of my favourite poets. There is sometging not western in his voice, in spite of the language; something more than merely Indian: perhaps it is the “twisting molecular rivers of memory, the intricate dance of DNA” that link us with Princess Suppadevi, Prince Vijaya’s mother and Princess Bhaddakachchayana from whose womb all our kings came – both daughters of Vanga-desa. Tagore sings to God in his personal voice – in Bengali. Do you know whether he translated them himself or, if it was done by another, who it was? After all he was awarded the Nobel prize for Literature.

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