TRANSLATED FROM THE BENGALI BY GARGI CHATTERJEA

The Flower Bud
Translated from Rabindranath Tagore’s ‘Kolika’

Dusk has gathered the bud of golden light,
And folded it in the lap of the growing dark,
When the bud floats to the shore of the new dawn,
The young lotus will burst out in radiant joy.
My pilgrim soul follows the evening alone,
Towards the sacred dawn of that rising sun,
As my last days fall and fade into the dusk.

The soft, sweet fragrance of that unborn morn,
Gently wafts through the mists of the deepest dark.
The songs are quietly sleeping in cloudless skies,
Starlight trembles with the sighs of unsung songs.
The vast hope lying in that unbound dark,
The voice immersed in deep inward thoughts,
All find expression in the canvas of my mind.

The path of life has stretched to the edge of the day,
To fade into the night of limitless dark,
The stars raise their hands to silently say,
‘Fear not’, as they stare with unwavering gaze.
I gather the last flowers of a dying morn,
And drift from this shore to another distant shore,
To finish a journey that will not end in this land.

My Evening! Do hide in the folds of your veil,
All that I hold cherished in my hands,
My Friend of the Dark Night! I am tying a bond,
To link my hand with Your merciful hands.
Hopes of many mornings and songs of nights,
Memories of days, happy, tender and sad,
Are left unfulfilled even though I depart.

All that I held and all that I am yet to hold,
As I walked on my path, all that was left behind,
The jewel that dangled, the pain that hurt my breast,
And all that has faded into the mists of the night.
All treasures of life will forever be held true,
Though they now languish in the paltry dust,
As they are all blessed by the Complete One.

Rain Goddess
Translated from Rabindranath Tagore’s ‘Abirbhaab’

I waited for you in the months of spring,
I waited for you in vain.
You came with the cascading rain.
A song tumultuous loud,
Shall sing the dark dense clouds,
In my heart today, the song shall ring,
Don’t let it go in vain –
This day of cascading rain.

Once I glimpsed you from afar,
In deep rich gold you were dressed in,
Wearing gold flowers of spring.
But today, when you come near me,
In dark blue robes, I stare to see –
Your feet are glancing off the ground,
Dancing with the speed of lightning.
Where are the flowers of spring?

I saw that day as you roamed,
In your spring-green bower,
Wandering amongst the flowers.
I heard the soft sweet tinkles
Of the jewels around your ankles,
When you slipped into the mist of the skies,
I inhaled your elusive perfume,
In the spring-green grove you roamed.

You have come today with your dark black tresses,
Spread across the heavens,
Trampling on wild blossoms.
You have drowned me in your glory,
I revel in your lashing fury,
I am spellbound with your beauty,
The deluge of rainy showers,
Your anklet of wild flowers.

The garland I strung in the months of spring,
Sitting in a flowery grove,
Is not for you, my love!
You are trailed as you walk along,
By the homage of a heartfelt song,
My humble music fails to keep pace,
My veena simply falls mute,
I cannot pay your tribute.

I hardly guessed that sudden glimpses,
Would be drowned by the rainy torrents.
In glory, you would come in.
My love, I am deeply ashamed to say,
To meet you, I am not ready today,
I am on my knees before the bridal-bed,
In deep worshipful reverence,
Such is your majestic presence.

Forgive me my folly, dear love,
Forgive my lack of courage,
I can only give you my homage.
This leafy, gentle cottage,
Be our home for just the moment,
Tread in softly in the light of a lamp,
And grace my bamboo flute.
I offer no other tribute.

You did not come in the months of spring,
When I waited for you in vain,
Come in the lashing rain.
Filling my heart to the brim,
Come dashing all my dreams,
Come with your veil strewn to the sky,
And ring my heart with singing,
This is not the spring.

Also, Read Book Excerpt from Memoirs and Letters—Rabindranath Tagore, Translated from The Bengali by Manjira Dasgupta and published in The Antonym:

BOOK EXCERPT FROM MEMOIRS AND LETTERS—RABINDRANATH TAGORE

Follow The Antonym’s Facebook page and Instagram account for more content and exciting updates.