Mercury Day poetry: Tagore’s ‘The Source’

Since we’ve been thinking about “the source” this week — who, where, when — it seemed that Rabindranath Tagore’s poem, “The Source,” would make sense today.

Tagore, of course, was the great Bengali poet, painter and musician. What did he not do? Not much.

***

The Source

The sleep that flits on baby’s eyes–does anybody know from where it comes? Yes, there is a rumour that it has its dwelling where, in the fairy village among shadows of the forest dimly lit with glow-worms, there hang two shy buds of enchantment. From there it comes to kiss baby’s eyes.

The smile that flickers on baby’s lips when he sleeps–does anybody know where it was born? Yes, there is a rumour that a young pale beam of a crescent moon touched the edge of a vanishing autumn cloud, and there the smile was first born in the dream of a dew-washed morning–the smile that flickers on baby’s lips when he sleeps.

The sweet, soft freshness that blooms on baby’s limbs–does anybody know where it was hidden so long? Yes, when the mother was a young girl it lay pervading her heart in tender and silent mystery of love–the sweet, soft freshness that has bloomed on baby’s limbs.

Posted by Steve

Advertisements

Published by

theconfluencecountdown

Two Ashtangis write about their practice and their teachers.

One thought on “Mercury Day poetry: Tagore’s ‘The Source’”

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s