The winding stream of Jhelum
Glimmers in evening glow
As darkness falls
Like a curved sword covered in a scabbard
It becomes dim;
As the tide of the day ebbs
The nightly tide comes in a surge
With its flowers of stars
Floating along the darkened flow;
Along its hilly banks
Stand the pines in rows;
It seems
The whole creation wants to express
What it dreams
But finds no words
In the gathering darkness
It murmurs those unuttered words.
In the evening sky suddenly I heard
In the empty space
Like lightning a sound travels
In a twinkling it went farther and farther.
O ye flying swans
Your wings are maddened by a storm
In an endless wild laughter
In endless mirth
You raise waves of wonders in the sky.
The flapping of your wings
Like the footfalls of a heavenly dancing girl
Awakens the silence
From its deep meditation
A shiver
Runs through the mountains
Dipped in darkness
And the pine grove trembles.
It seemed
The sound of your wings in a flash
Brought to whatever stands still
An indomitable yearning to move.
The mountains wanted to become summer clouds
The woods breaking its earthly bondage
Wanted to fly on wings
Along your sounds
To lose itself in the skies
And measure its limits.
Breaking its evening dream
Like a wave a craving rises in your heart
A yearning for the far.
O ye lost on your wings!
In the heart of the whole world echoes this yearning -
'Not here, not here, but somewhere else.'
O ye swans
Tonight you have uncovered to me
The secrets of silence.
I can hear in the stillness
The sounds of wings everywhere -
They are restless, they are mad.
As if in the skies
The grass flaps its wings
On earth's immense surface
Who knows where
In its dark depths
Innumerable germinating swans
Flap their wings!
I can see these hills, these woods
Are in flight on their outspread wings
From an unknown place
To another place unknown.
In the twinkling of the stars
I can hear
Darkness crying for light.
I heard men's messages
Travel through the ages
Along unknown paths
From the unknown past to a future
Yet to be known
I heard in my heart a bird away from its nest
Day and night
Flies across light and darkness
Along with these flying swans
Who knows whence it comes
And where it is bound
In the song of its wings echoes -
'Not here, not here, but somewhere else.'
Transcreation of poem 36 from the collection Balaka by Rabindranath Tagore. In the compilation Sanchayita it is entitled Balaka. Written in the autumn of 1322 BS (1915-16) at Srinagar, the poem is said to have been inspired by the philosophical theory of Creative Evolution. For the opportunity to read this marvelous poem in the original is worth the trouble one may take to learn the language. The original may be viewed at http://www.rabindra-rachanabali.nltr.org/node/12419.
