If you want to remember me
When I shall be no more in this world
Then come to the lonely shades
Of these Sal groves of spring.
Here the bunches of flowers
That hang from the branches of the trees
Here the birds that sing and dance
They don't call me by a name
They don't remember me brooding alone.
Under this shade
Here there is coming and going all the time
But they are quite indifferent
Every moment so many things disappear
Nobody keeps any account.
Here they were called by the air
That is blowing from the beginning of time
Me also it gave its calls sometimes
Swaying my mind by its rhythms.
I was then indifferent
To all my achievements and fame
I rambled along my way at random
In total absence of mind
By momentary friends
I was crowded around
My thoughts were like floating clouds
And I stuck on to nothing
The sky gave forms to my dreams
There was color passing pictures to paint
Whatever I gave or did, both big and small,
My signatures were borne by none
None I did claim as my own.
Whatever I wrote, whatever I erased
All have disappeared
On none of them I put a price.
When I am lost to that time
Search me along the way that has no trace -
Where days pass
Shedding everything one by one
Stuffed up by endless collection
The pot itself also gets lost.
Sometimes I got tidings
From a land that is unbounded by time
After the game was over
My playmates left
Whom I also joined
Obligations there were none.
Nothing I gave, nothing I asked, nothing I kept
Be that good or bad
I discarded all as wastage.
The forgotten spring with its shedding flowers
Laid out a seat for me for a moment.
Those who sat by me sometimes
I don't know where they left what they said
The world has forgotten them easily
In today's meetings they have no place.
Who has known me
As one who lived away from the crowd
And mixed with those who couldn't speak
One who bound none in debts
And no debts he himself left behind?
If you want to remember me now
Then for God's sake don't call a meeting
Better you come to the shades
Of these Sal groves of spring.
Translation of the poem Smaran from the collection Senjuti by Rabindranath Tagore. The original poem may be read here
