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When I sail my boat
I keep on looking at the shores
On my right, on my left
With their trees and homes
Pass village after village
And their river banks
With their landing stages
As if it’s a magician’s show.
Those who are bathing
They look like mirages
As they pass
In my eyes
They paint pictures
Which soon are erased.
It seems I have boarded a boat
That is powered by eternal time
And I am watching the pageant
That is played through ages.
An acquaintance ends as soon as it begins
Now I see him in front
Now he passes behind.
Things I am always forgetting
I thought I shall never forget
Ignoring the loss I suffered in the past
I travel on to see new places.
Soon I get, soon I lose
Day and night that is what upsets
Sometimes it pleases
Sometimes it pains
Yet it doesn’t seem too bad
Somehow to survive
In this running game
Of flowing life.
Now you collect, now you discard
And you go on doing this
You may as well call it
The rowing of the boat of life.
Then comes the night and your rowing stops
None of your fellow pilgrims
You can see in the dark.
Drifting in the ebb tide
Your boat is at last lost
In the shoreless sea
Where the stars of the Orion
Take their dip.
Translation of the poem Paler Nouka from the collection Senjuti by Rabindranath Tagore. It was written at Almora on 8th June, 1937 when the poet was 76.
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