Shishu – Borderless

Winter by Rabindranath

Sheeth or Winter was first published in 1909 in Tagore’s collection called Shishu (Children). The poem looks forward to winter giving way to spring using simple but eloquent verses.

The bird says, “I will leave.”
     The flower says, “I will not bloom.”
The breeze merely says, 
       “I will not flit across the woods.”
Young shoots do not look up,
   Instead, sprouts shrivel to shed.
Dusty bamboos loom
     To paint an untimely dusk. 
Why do the birds migrate? 
        Why do flowers not bloom? 
Why has the agile breeze 
    stopped romping in the woods? 
The heartless winter 
        Has a bleak outlook. 
Wrinkled and harsh, 
       She imparts hard lessons. 
The gleaming moonlit night,
        The fresh fragrance of flowers, 
The youthful sport of breeze, 
      The cacophony of leaves — 
All these she looks upon as sins, 
       She thinks in nature, 
The knowledgeable only sit 
       Still like a picture. 
That is why the bird bids “goodbye”. 
     The flower says, “I’ll not bloom.”
The breeze merely says, 
       “I’ll not run across the woods.”
But when Hope says, “Spring’ll come,”
        The flower says, “I’ll bloom.” 
The bird says, “I’ll sing.”
         The moon says, “I’ll smile.”
The newly-fledged spring 
       Has just started to awake. 
He smiles at whatever he sees. 
       He plays with everything. 
His heart is full of hope.
          Unaware of his own desires, 
His being runs hither and thither 
         Looking for kindred spirits. 
Flowers bloom, so does the child. 
         Birds sing, so does he. 
He hugs the caressing breeze 
         To play vernal games. 
That’s why when I hear, “Spring’ll come,”
    The flower says, “I’ll bloom.” 
The bird says, “I’ll sing.”
         The moon says, “I’ll smile.”
Winter, why did you come here? 
       Your home is in the north — 
Birds do not sing there, 
       Flowers do not bloom on trees. 
Your home is a snowy desert 
        That’s dark and lifeless — 
Sit there alone, O knowledgeable, 
         Spend your days contemplating.

Snowy Kanchenjunga photographed from Darjeeling, West Bengal, in winters.

This poem has been translated from Bengali by Mitali Chakravarty with editorial input by Sohana Manzoor

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Hide & Seek by Tagore

HIDE AND SEEK In a playful mood, if I were to Bloom as a champa flower on a tree, At dawn, O mother, I would frolic Amidst the branches of young leaves. I would win in this game of hide-and-seek. Would you have recognised me? You would call out, “Khoka, where are you? “ I would only laugh silently. When you do your household chores I would watch from high above. After a bath, with your wet hair spread on your shoulder, When you would walk under the tree To go to the prayer room While inhaling the perfume of the blooms — You would wonder how Your Khoka’s scent mingles with the breeze! In the afternoon, after everyone has lunched When you relax with a Mahabharat, The shade of the tree by the windowsill Would fall on your back and lap. My tiny shadow would sway On the words of your book. But you would not know the shadow Of your darling wafts before your eyes. In the evening, after lighting a lamp, When you go to the cowshed, I would finish my game And drop down from the tree. Again, I would be your Khoka. I would say,”Tell me a story.” And you would ask,”Naughty! Where were you?” I would reply, “I will not tell you my secret.”