a stanza or two, almost on a Friday

I was overtaken with studying yesterday and didn't get a chance to post a poem. So here it is.

I am fascinated by this poet, Rabindranath Tagore. I have yet to finish reading his biography, and really want to pick up a book of his poems. Maybe I'll ask for one for my upcoming birthday.


I Cast My Net Into The Sea

In the morning I cast my net into the sea.

I dragged up from the dark abyss things of strange aspect and strange beauty -- some shone like a smile, some glistened like tears, and some were flushed like the cheeks of a bride.

When with the day's burden I went home, my love was sitting in the garden idly tearing the leaves of a flower.

I hesitated for a moment, and then placed at her feet all that I had dragged up, and stood silent.

She glanced at them and said, 'What strange things are these? I know not of what use they are!'

I bowed my head in shame and thought, 'I have not fought for these, I did not buy them in the market; they are not fit gifts for her.'

Then the whole night through I flung them one by one into the street.

In the morning travellers came; they picked them up and carried them into far countries.

Rabindranath Tagore