Hungry Stones - 4

(A poetic translation of a story by Rabindranath Tagore, kśhdhārto pāśhāņa, Hungry Stones, for convenience split in 13 parts) . It is set in blank verse with stanzas that rhymed in between. IV I felt a sharp thrill in my heavy heart, But knew not if the dart came from apart, Or caused was by delight, fear, curious mind; I felt an eerie, weird urge to find Them, but I saw nothing, nor could I hear Any clearer despite my straining ear, All I could was birds chirping in the wood, It was as if a dark screen of past stood Hanging before my curious pair of eyes, Fains if I could lift them nigh to peer through, For, total darkness enveloped my view, I hoped still, soon enough the screen would rise. A sudden gust of wind lifted the weight Of oppression— thanks for life's small mercies— The still surface of the river rippled, Curling a tad like strands of a nymph's hair, The woods were wrapt in evening's sleepy gloom When there came forth, some relief of murmur As though it rose from a darkling dream! Was it real or a tired man's daydream? Piercing through the centuries gone by, Vanishing in a flash as moments fly, And yet, the mystic forms that brushed past me With quick bodiless steps, loud lifeless laugh, The sound of bodies splashing in river, The eerie apparitions somewhat bent, Wringing their dripping robes awhile they went, Remained in my mind's vague vision for long, O like fragrance wafted away by wind, Dispersed but by a single breath of spring. Filled I was with the fear: or Muse it was That gained gratitude of my solitude, Possessing me in such a lonely wood, A witch, thought I, visited on a cause; Whatso be, let a good dinner me fill, An empty maw is undoubted devil, Let me call the cook; hefty dinner be, Lots of spices made mellower with ghee. _____________________________________________ Translations | 04.03.13 |