All these I loved
This dancing of the light on the leaves
This playing of the wild wind
Among the sal groves
They have all maddened my mind
Along this red-earth road
That man going to the village market
The little girl sitting on the dust
Playing alone with her tray of toys
Whatever I see before me
They all make music in my eyes.
Mine is only a bamboo flute
And I play only rustic tunes
An earthly bond of this dusty earth
Has bound my mind
I have borrowed my view
From the views of those boys
I have set my tunes
To the tunes of those boys
Who have drunk the lights
Flowing from the blue of the skies.
Whenever I want to go to a far away place
They crowd around me to dissuade
The village sky waving rustic flowers
Beckons me back
I am yet to exhaust whatever is near
And whatever is sweet
So I don't hanker after
Whatever is far
All these tidbits
I am yet to find
Their farthest limits
I am yet to finish my song
Of these ordinary things.
So wherever I go
This only I sing
How much they pleased
How they held me in a spell
Day and night I have no time
To do any thing else
My eyes are drowned
Drowned is my mind
Don't call me
It's of no use -
Let others aim something big
Let them gather more and more
Let me rove
Let me sing
I don't want to be someone big.
Translation of the song - Eito bhalo legechhilo - by Rabindranath Tagore. Best recording of this song is by Debabrata Biswas.
