{"id":3016,"date":"2013-07-13T01:45:23","date_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:45:23","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/localhost\/?p=3016"},"modified":"2013-07-13T01:45:23","modified_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:45:23","slug":"03-songs-to-myrtilla-contd-vol-02-collected-poems","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/01-works-of-sri-aurobindo\/03-cwsa\/02-collected-poems\/03-songs-to-myrtilla-contd-vol-02-collected-poems","title":{"rendered":"-03_Songs to Myrtilla – Contd.htm"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n\n\n
\n

 <\/td>\n

\n<\/p>\n

\n
\nNight by the Sea<\/a><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nLove, a moment drop thy hands;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNight within my soul expands.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nVeil thy beauties milk-rose-fair<\/span><\/p>\n

\nIn that dark and showering hair.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nCoral kisses ravish not<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWhen the soul is tinged with thought;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBurning looks are then forbid.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLet each shyly-parted lid<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHover like a settling dove<\/span><\/p>\n

\nO’er those deep-blue wells of Love.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nDarkness brightens; silvering flee<\/span><\/p>\n

\nPomps of foam the driven sea.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nIn this garden’s dim repose<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLighted with the burning rose,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSoft narcissi’s golden camp<\/span><\/p>\n

\nGlimmering or with rosier lamp<\/span><\/p>\n

\nCensered honeysuckle guessed<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBy the fragrance of her breast,  \u2014 <\/span> <\/p>\n

\nHere where summer’s hands have crowned<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSilence in the fields of sound,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHere felicity should be.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHearken, Edith, to the sea.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nWhat a voice of grief intrudes<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOn these happy solitudes!<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTo the wind that with him dwells<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOcean, old historian, tells<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAll the dreadful heart of tears<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHidden in the pleasant years.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSummer’s children, what do ye<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBy the stern and cheerless sea?<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nNot we first nor we alone<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHeard the mighty Ocean moan<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

\n
\nPage \u2013 23<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\nBy this treasure-house of flowers<\/span><\/p>\n

\nIn the sweet ambiguous hours.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMany a girl’s lips ruby-red<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWith their vernal honey fed<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHappy mouths, and soft cheeks flushed<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWith Love’s rosy sunlight blushed.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nRuddy lips of many a boy<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBlithe discovered hills of joy<\/span><\/p>\n

\nRuby-guided through a kiss<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTo the sweet highways of bliss.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHere they saw the evening still<\/span><\/p>\n

\nComing slowly from the hill<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd the patient stars arise<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTo their outposts in the skies;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHeard the ocean shoreward urge<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThe speed and thunder of his surge,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSinging heard as though a bee<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNoontide waters on the sea.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\nThese no longer. For our rose<\/span><\/p>\n

\nIn her place they wreathed once, blows,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd thy glorious garland, sweet,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nKissed not once those wandering feet.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAll the lights of spring are ended,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTo the wintry haven wended.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBeauty’s boons and nectarous leisure,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLips, the honeycombs of pleasure,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nCheeks enrosed, Love’s natal soil,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBreasts, the ardent conqueror’s spoil,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSpring rejects; a lovelier child<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHis brittle fancies has beguiled.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nO her name that to repeat<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThan the Dorian muse more sweet<\/span><\/p>\n

\nCould the white hand more relume<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWriting and refresh the bloom<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOf lips that used such syllables then,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nDies unloved by later men.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n
\nPage \u2013 24<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\nAre we more than summer flowers?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nShall a longer date be ours,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nRose and springtime, youth and we<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBy the everlasting sea?<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\nAre they blown as legends tell<\/span><\/p>\n

\nIn the smoke and gurge of hell?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWrithe they in relucent gyres<\/span><\/p>\n

\nO’er a circle sad of fires?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nIn what lightless groves must they<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOr unmurmuring alleys stray?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nFields no sunlight visits, streams<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWhere no happy lotus gleams?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nYet, where’er their steps below,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMemories sweet for comrades go.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLethe’s waters had their will,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBut the soul remembers still.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBeauty pays her boon of breath<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTo thy narrow credit, Death,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLeaving a brief perfume; we<\/span><\/p>\n

\nPerish also by the sea.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\nWe shall lose, ah me! too soon<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLose the clear and silent moon,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThe serenities of night<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd the deeper evening light.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWe shall know not when the morn<\/span><\/p>\n

\nIn the widening East is born,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNever feel the west-wind stir,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSpring’s delightful messenger,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNever under branches lain<\/span><\/p>\n

\nDally with the sweet-lipped rain,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWatch the moments of the tree,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNor know the sounds that tread the sea.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\nWith thy kisses chase this gloom:  \u2014 <\/span> <\/p>\n

\nThoughts, the children of the tomb.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n
\nPage \u2013 25<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\nKiss me, Edith. Soon the night<\/span><\/p>\n

\nComes and hides the happy light.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNature’s vernal darlings dead<\/span><\/p>\n

\nFrom new founts of life are fed.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nDawn relumes the immortal skies.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAh! what boon for earth-closed eyes?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLove’s sweet debts are standing, sweet;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHonied payment to complete<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHaste \u2014 a million is to pay  \u2014 <\/span> <\/p>\n

\nLest too soon the allotted day<\/span><\/p>\n

\nEnd and we oblivious keep<\/span><\/p>\n

\nDarkness and eternal sleep.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSee! the moon from heaven falls.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nIn thy bosom’s snow-white walls<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSoftly and supremely housed<\/span><\/p>\n

\nShut my heart up; keep it closed<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLike a rose of Indian grain,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLike that rose against the rain,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nClosed to all that life applauds,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNature’s perishable gauds,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd the airs that burdened be<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWith such thoughts as shake the sea.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n
\nThe Lover’s Complaint<\/a><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nO plaintive, murmuring reed, begin thy strain;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nUnloose that heavenly tongue,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nInterpreter divine of pain;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nUtter thy voice, the sister of my song.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThee in the silver waters growing,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nArcadian Pan, strange whispers blowing<\/span><\/p>\n

\nInto thy delicate stops, did teach<\/span><\/p>\n

\nA language lovelier than speech.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

\n
\nPage \u2013 26<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\nO plaintive, murmuring reed, begin thy strain;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nO plaintive, murmuring reed.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNisa to Mopsus is decreed,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThe moonwhite Nisa to a swarthy swain.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWhat love-gift now shall Hope not bring?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nElection dwells no more with beauty’s king.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThe wild weed now has wed the rose,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNow ivy on the bramble grows;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nToo happy lover, fill the lamp of bliss!<\/span><\/p>\n

\nToo happy lover, drunk with Nisa’s kiss!<\/span><\/p>\n

\nFor thee pale Cynthia leaves her golden car,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nFor thee from Tempe stoops the white and evening star.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nO plaintive, murmuring reed, renew thy strain;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nO solace anguish yet again.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nI thought Love soft as velvet sleep,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSweeter than dews nocturnal breezes weep,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nCool as water in a murmuring pass<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd shy as violets in the vernal grass,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBut hard as Nisa’s heart is he<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd salt as the unharvestable sea.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nO plaintive, murmuring reed, renew thy strain.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOne morn she came; her mouth<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBreathing the odours of the south,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWith happy eyes and heaving bosom fain.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nShe asked for fruit long-stored in autumn’s hold.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThese gave I; from the branch dislodged I threw<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSweet-hearted apples in their age of gold<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd pears divine for taste and hue.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd one I saw, should all the rest excel;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBut error led my plucking hand astray<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd with a sudden sweet dismay<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMy heart into her apron fell.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nO plaintive, murmuring reed, renew thy strain.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMy bleeding heart awhile<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n
\nPage \u2013 27<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\nShe kept and bloomed upon its pain,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThen slighted as a broken thing and vile.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNow Mopsus in his unblest arms,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMopsus enfolds her heavenlier charms,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMopsus to whom the Muse averse<\/span><\/p>\n

\nRefused her gracious secrets to rehearse.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nO plaintive, murmuring reed, breathe yet thy strain.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nYe glades, your bliss I grudge you not,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNor would I that my grief profane<\/span><\/p>\n

\nYour sacred summer with intruding thought.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nYet since I will no more behold<\/span><\/p>\n

\nYour glorious beauty stained with gold<\/span><\/p>\n

\nFrom shadows of her hair, nor by some well<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMade naked of their sylvan dress<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThe breasts, the limbs I never shall possess,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTherefore, O mother Arethuse, farewell.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nFor me no place abides<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBy the green verge of thy beloved tides.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTo Lethe let my footsteps go<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd wailing waters in the realms below,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWhere happier song is none than moaning pain<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNor any lovelier Syrinx than the weed.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nChild of the lisping waters, hush thy strain,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nO murmuring, plaintive reed.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n
\nLove in Sorrow<\/a><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\nDo you remember, Love, that sunset pale<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWhen from near meadows sad with mist the breeze<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSighed like a feverous soul and with soft wail<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThe ghostly river sobbed among the trees?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nI think that Nature heard our misery<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWeep to itself and wept for sympathy.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n
\nPage \u2013 28<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\nFor we were strangers then; we knew not Fate<\/span><\/p>\n

\nIn ambush by the solitary stream<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNor did our sorrows hope to find a mate,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMuch less of love or friendship dared we dream.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nRather we thought that loneliness and we<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWere wed in marble perpetuity.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nFor there was none who loved me, no, not one.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAlas, what was there that a man should love?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nFor I was misery’s last and frailest son<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd even my mother bade me homeless rove.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd I had wronged my youth and nobler powers<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBy weak attempts, small failures, wasted hours.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nTherefore I laid my cheek on the chill grass<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd murmured, “I am overborne with grief<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd joy to richer natures hopes to pass.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOh me! my life is like an aspen leaf<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThat shakes but will not fall. My thoughts are blind<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd life so bitter that death seems almost kind.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n“How am I weary of the days’ increase,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOf the moon’s brightness and the splendid stars,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThe sun that dies not. I would be at peace,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNor blind my soul with images, nor force<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMy lips to mirth whose later taste is death,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNor with vain utterance load my weary breath.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nThus murmured I aloud nor deemed I spoke<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTo human ears, but you were hidden, sweet,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBehind the willows when my plaining broke<\/span><\/p>\n

\nUpon your lonely muse. Ah kindly feet<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThat brushed the grass in tender haste to bind<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnother’s wounds, you were less wise than kind.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nYou said, “My brother, lift your forlorn eyes;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nI am your sister more than you unblest.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n
\nPage \u2013 29<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\nI looked upon your face, the book of sighs<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd index to incurable unrest.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nI rose and kissed you, sweet. Your lips were warm<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd drew my heart out like a witch’s charm.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nWe parted where the sacred spires arose<\/span><\/p>\n

\nIn silent power above the silent street.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nI saw you mid the rose-trees, O white rose,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLinger a moment, then the dusk defeat<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMy eyes, and, listening, heard your footsteps fade<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOn the sad leaves of the autumnal glade.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nAnd were you happy, sweet? In me I know  \u2014 <\/span> <\/p>\n

\nFor either in my blood the autumn sang<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHis own pale requiem or that new sweet glow<\/span><\/p>\n

\nFailed in the light of bitter knowledge \u2014 rang<\/span><\/p>\n

\nA voice that said, “Behold the loves too pure<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTo live, the joy that never shall endure.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nThis too I know, nor is my hope so bright<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBut that it sees its autumn cold and sere<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAttending with a pale and solemn light<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBeyond the gardens of the vernal year.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nYet will I not my weary heart constrain<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBut take you, sweet, and sweet surcease from pain.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n
\nThe Island Grave<\/a><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nOcean is there and evening; the slow moan<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOf the blue waves that like a shaken robe<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTwo heard together once, one hears alone.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nNow gliding white and hushed towards our globe<\/span><\/p>\n

\nKeen January with cold eyes and clear<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd snowdrops pendent in each frosty lobe<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n
\nPage \u2013 30<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\nUshers the firstborn of the radiant year.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHaply his feet that grind the breaking mould,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMay brush the dead grass on thy secret bier,<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\nHaply his joyless fingers wan and cold<\/span><\/p>\n

\nCaress the ruined masses of thy hair,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nPale child of winter, dead ere youth was old.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nArt thou so desolate in that bitter air<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThat even his breath feels warm upon thy face?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAh till the daffodil is born, forbear,<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\nAnd I will meet thee in that lonely place.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThen the grey dawn shall end my hateful days<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd death admit me to the silent ways.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n
\nEstelle<\/a><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nWhy do thy lucid eyes survey,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nEstelle, their sisters in the milky way?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThe blue heavens cannot see<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThy beauty nor the planets praise.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBlindly they walk their old accustomed ways.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTurn hither for felicity.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMy body’s earth thy vernal power declares,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMy spirit is a heaven of thousand stars,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd all these lights are thine and open doors on thee.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n
\nPage \u2013 31<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n
\nRadha’s Complaint in Absence<\/a><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n(Imitated from the Bengali of Chundidas<\/i>)<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nO heart, my heart, a heavy pain is thine!<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWhat land is that where none doth know<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLove’s cruel name nor any word of sin?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMy heart, there let us go.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nFriend of my soul, who then has called love sweet?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLaughing I called from heavenly spheres<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThe sweet love close; he came with flying feet<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd turned my life to tears.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nWhat highborn girl, exiling virgin pride,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHas wooed love to her with a laugh?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHis fires shall burn her as in harvest-tide<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThe mowers burn the chaff.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nO heart, my heart, merry thy sweet youth ran<\/span><\/p>\n

\nIn fields where no love was; thy breath<\/span><\/p>\n

\nIs anguish, since his cruel reign began.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWhat other cure but death?<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n
\nRadha’s Appeal<\/a><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n(Imitated from the Bengali of Chundidas<\/i>)<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nO love, what more shall I, shall Radha speak,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSince mortal words are weak?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nIn life, in death,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nIn being and in breath<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNo other lord but thee can Radha seek.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

\n
\nPage \u2013 32<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\nAbout thy feet the mighty net is wound<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWherein my soul they bound;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMyself resigned<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTo servitude my mind;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMy heart than thine no sweeter slavery found.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\nI, Radha, thought; through the three worlds my gaze<\/span><\/p>\n

\nI sent in wild amaze;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nI was alone.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNone called me “Radha!”, none;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nI saw no hand to clasp, no friendly face.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nI sought my father’s house; my father’s sight<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWas empty of delight;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNo tender friend<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHer loving voice would lend;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMy cry came back unanswered from the night.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\nTherefore to this sweet sanctuary I brought<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMy chilled and shuddering thought.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAh, suffer, sweet,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTo thy most faultless feet<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThat I should cling unchid; ah, spurn me not!<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nSpurn me not, dear, from thy beloved breast,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nA woman weak, unblest.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThus let me cling,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThus, thus about my king<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd thus remain caressing and caressed.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\nI, Radha, thought; without my life’s sweet lord,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\u2014Strike now thy mightiest chord  \u2014 <\/span> <\/p>\n

\nI had no power<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTo live one simple hour;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHis absence slew my soul as with a sword.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nPage \u2013 33<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n\t\t\tIf one brief moment steal thee from mine eyes,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMy heart within me dies.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAs girls who keep<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThe treasures of the deep,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nI string thee round my neck and on my bosom prize.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\nBankim Chandra Chatterji<\/a><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nHow hast thou lost, O month of honey and flowers,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThe voice that was thy soul! Creative showers,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThe cuckoo’s daylong cry and moan of bees,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nZephyrs and streams and softly-blossoming trees<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd murmuring laughter and heart-easing tears<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd tender thoughts and great and the compeers<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOf lily and jasmine and melodious birds,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAll these thy children into lovely words<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHe changed at will and made soul-moving books<\/span><\/p>\n

\nFrom hearts of men and women’s honied looks.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nO master of delicious words! the bloom<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOf chompuk and the breath of king-perfume<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHave made each musical sentence with the noise<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOf women’s ornaments and sweet household joys<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd laughter tender as the voice of leaves<\/span><\/p>\n

\nPlaying with vernal winds. The eye receives<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThat reads these lines an image of delight,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nA world with shapes of spring and summer, noon and night;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAll nature in a page, no pleasing show<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBut men more real than the friends we know.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nO plains, O hills, O rivers of sweet Bengal,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nO land of love and flowers, the spring-bird’s call<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd southern wind are sweet among your trees:<\/span><\/p>\n

\nYour poet’s words are sweeter far than these.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nYour heart was this man’s heart. Subtly he knew<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThe beauty and divinity in you.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHis nature kingly was and as a god<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

\n
\nPage \u2013 34<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\nIn large serenity and light he trod<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHis daily way, yet beauty, like soft flowers<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWreathing a hero’s sword, ruled all his hours.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThus moving in these iron times and drear,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBarren of bliss and robbed of golden cheer,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHe sowed the desert with ruddy-hearted rose,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThe sweetest voice that ever spoke in prose.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nMadhusudan Dutt<\/a><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\nPoet, who first with skill inspired did teach<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tGreatness to our divine Bengali speech,  \u2014
\n\t\t\t<\/span> <\/p>\n

\nDivine, but rather with delightful moan<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSpring’s golden mother makes when twin-alone<\/span><\/p>\n

\nShe lies with golden Love and heaven’s birds<\/span><\/p>\n

\nCall hymeneal with enchanting words<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOver their passionate faces, rather these<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThan with the calm and grandiose melodies<\/span><\/p>\n

\n(Such calm as consciousness of godhead owns)<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThe high gods speak upon their ivory thrones<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSitting in council high,  \u2014  till taught by thee<\/span><\/p>\n

\nFragrance and noise of the world-shaking sea.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThus do they praise thee who amazed espy<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThy winged epic and hear the arrows cry<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n\t\t\tAnd journeyings of alarmed gods; and due<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThe praise, since with great verse and numbers new<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThou mad’st her godlike who was only fair.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd yet my heart more perfectly ensnare<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThy soft impassioned flutes and more thy Muse<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTo wander in the honied months doth choose<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThan courts of kings, with Sita in the grove<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOf happy blossoms, (O musical voice of love<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMurmuring sweet words with sweeter sobs between!)<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWith Shoorpa in the Vindhyan forests green<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLaying her wonderful heart upon the sod<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n
\nPage \u2013 35<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\nMade holy by the well-loved feet that trod<\/span><\/p>\n

\nIts vocal shades; and more unearthly bright<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThy jewelled songs made of relucent light<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWherein the birds of spring and summer and all flowers<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd murmuring waters flow, her widowed hours<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMaking melodious who divinely loved.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNo human hands such notes ambrosial moved;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThese accents are not of the imperfect earth;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nRather the god was voiceful in their birth,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThe god himself of the enchanting flute,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThe god himself took up thy pen and wrote.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nTo the Cuckoo<\/a><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\nSounds of the wakening world, the year’s increase,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nPassage of wind and all his dewy powers<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n\t\t\tWith breath and laughter of new-bathed flowers<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd that deep light of heaven above the trees<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAwake mid leaves that muse in golden peace<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSweet noise of birds, but most in heavenly showers<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThe cuckoo’s voice pervades the lucid hours,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nIs priest and summoner of these melodies.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThe spent and weary streams refresh their youth<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAt that creative rain and barren groves<\/span><\/p>\n

\nRegain their face of flowers; in thee the ruth<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOf Nature wakening her dead children moves.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBut chiefly to renew thou hast the art<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n\t\t\tFresh childhood in the obscured human heart.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

\n
\nPage \u2013 36<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\nEnvoi<\/a><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nIte hinc, Camenae, vos quoque ite jam, sane<\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

\n
\nDulces Camenae, nam fatebimur verum<\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

\nDulces fuistis, et tamen meas chartas<\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

\n
\nRevisitote sed pudenter et raro.<\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nPale poems, weak and few, who vainly use<\/span><\/p>\n

\nYour wings towards the unattainable spheres,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOffspring of the divine Hellenic Muse,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n\t\t\tPoor maimed children born of six disastrous years!<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\nNot as your mother’s is your wounded grace,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSince not to me with equal love returned<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThe hope which drew me to that serene face<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWherein no unreposeful light of effort burned.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\nDepart and live for seasons many or few<\/span><\/p>\n

\nIf live you may, but stay not here to pain<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMy heart with hopeless passion and renew<\/span><\/p>\n

\nVisions of beauty that my lips shall ne’er attain.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\nFor in Sicilian olive-groves no more<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOr seldom must my footprints now be seen,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNor tread Athenian lanes, nor yet explore<\/span><\/p>\n

\nParnassus or thy voiceful shores, O Hippocrene.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\nMe from her lotus heaven Saraswati<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHas called to regions of eternal snow<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd Ganges pacing to the southern sea,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nGanges upon whose shores the flowers of Eden blow.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nPage \u2013 37<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n<\/td>\n

\n <\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

  Night by the Sea   Love, a moment drop thy hands; Night within my soul expands. Veil thy beauties milk-rose-fair In that dark and…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[57],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3016","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-02-collected-poems","wpcat-57-id"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3016","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3016"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3016\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3016"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3016"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3016"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}