One of Tagore’s poems that has entered in my list of
favourites in recent days, goes like this –
Pagol je tui,
kontho bhore
Janiye de tai
shahosh kore.
Day Jodi tor duar
nara
Thakish kone dish
ne shara –
Boluk sobai
‘shristichara’,
Boluk sobai ‘ ki
kaj tor’.
Bol re ‘ami kehoe
na go,
Kichui noi, je hoi-na’
Shune bonay uthbe
hashi,
Dike dike bajbe
banshi -
Bolbe batash
‘bhalobashi’
Bandhbo akash
alokh bhore.
When I read his works, I get the same feeling as a bee gets
, when it finds nectar.
I read a poem by Longfellow, a long time back, as a part of my syllabus
then.
…Tell me not in mournful numbers
Life is but an
empty dream!
For the soul is
dead that slumbers
And, things are
not what they seem… (~psalm of Life)
This poem has a lasting appeal and has got much more to say
than just what it seems at first sight. And so were many of the other poems in
my syllabus. I remember my English tutor, Mr. Suvro Chatterjee (Sir),
saying,’…remember some day, maybe many years from now, some of you present here
are going to call-up and say that you finally understood the poem.’ Right then
his words seemed strange to most of us. But, he was correct – with age and
experiences those poems do now hold a deeper meaning in my heart than they
previously ever did.
P.S. I’m not sure why
I wrote this post. I intended to say something but I’m afraid I am a little
muddled.
