Where the mind is poor
It is adept in argument
Its language is bare
It has no ornaments.
From fancy's store
It has to borrow rhymes and rhetoric
But when the heart is suddenly swayed
Good words in good orders
Naturally flow
Why do you derisively smile,
My lady progressive,
Calling it hyperbole?
It is only in your honor
My words appear
In a decent dress
Don't you taunt and tease
To make them feel shy.
In their offerings to you
If they don't overflow
They are useless and untrue.
They lack the shine
It is rather better to remain mute
At your evening visit
Don't you carry on your person
Excess and exaggeration?
The smiles you smile then
Are they measured
Like your everyday smiles?
They seem excessively sweet
I don't think I can catch it in words
As much I adorn them
So much they admit defeat
To your ear their discomfiture appears
Fidgety indeed.
But that sky blue dress of yours
Isn't it like my excessive speech?
What overflowing mind
Matches your body
With the color of the sky
Isn't it your bodily music?
I know it to be truer than the truth.
Then why do you laugh
Why do you call fictitious
These my words of love?
Translation of the poem Atyukti from the collection Sanai by Rabindranath Tagore. The original in Bengali script may be viewed at
