Selected faves from Gitanjali

I took leave from work today to read Gitanjali (naughty me) and managed to fall asleep many times in between readings. It has to be done so that I can cross it off my to-do list. Never mind finding money.

Gitanjali is a collection of poems originally in Bengali. When it was translated into English, the West took notice and awarded the poet, Rabindranath Tagore the Nobel Prize for literature in 1923. Much of the original poem's "subtlety of rythm, untranslatable delicacies of colour, of metrical invention" was lost in translation, so what we get from the translation is perhaps a quarter of its original splendour.

I have six poems that I like; but will record here just two; here's the first:

My desires are many and my cry is pitiful, but ever didst thou
save me by hard refusals; and this strong mercy has been wrought
into my life through and through.

Day by day thou art making me worthy of the simple, great gifts
that thou gavest to me unasked--this sky and the light, this body
and the life and the mind--saving me from perils of overmuch
desire.

There are times when I languidly linger and times when I awaken
and hurry in search of my goal; and cruelly thou hidest thyself
from before me.

Day by day thou art making me worthy of thy full acceptance by
refusing me ever and anon, saving me from perils of weak,
uncertain desires.

And this one:

When I bring to you coloured toys, my child, I understand why
there is such a play of colours on clouds, on water, and why
flowers are painted in tints--when I give coloured toys to you,
my child.

When I sing to make you dance I truly know why there is music in
leaves, and why waves send their chorus of voices to the heart of
the listening earth--when I sing to make you dance.

When I bring sweet things to your greedy hands I know why there
is honey in the cup of the flowers and why fruits are secretly
filled with sweet juice--when I bring sweet things to your greedy
hands.

When I kiss your face to make you smile, my darling, I surely
understand what pleasure streams from the sky in morning light,
and what delight that is which the summer breeze brings
to my body--when I kiss to make you smile.

There you have it. Off my chest.

But of course the greatest "literature" of all is Kalamullah, alQuran; a quest I must embark on.