In keeping with yesterday’s post, today’s Mercury day poem is by another Bengali poet, the immortal Rabindranath Tagore. Although Tagore is famous in the West for his “mystic” poetry, he also wrote novels and he won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1913. His poems were widely known in Europe and America during his lifetime (back in the day when poets had “fans”–we live in dark times for poets). I’m most impressed with his economy and simultaneous intensity, and that he acted as his own translator! Enjoy.
In the Dusky Path of a Dream
In the dusky path of a dream I went to seek the love who was mine in a former life.
Her house stood at the end of a desolate street.
In the evening breeze her pet peacock sat drowsing on its perch, and the pigeons
were silent in their corner.
She set her lamp down by the portal and stood before me.
She raised her large eyes to my face and mutely asked, ‘Are you well, my friend?’
I tried to answer, but our language had been lost and forgotten.
I thought and thought; our names would not come to my mind.
Tears shone in her eyes. She held up her right and to me. I took it and stood silent.
Our lamp had flickered in the evening breeze and died.
Posted by Bobbie