The Hungry Stones VI

Newspapers read and a grand dinner done, I put out a large lamp awake like Moon, And stretched into my bed wishing deep sleep, Some stars twinkled through the open window That framed in nearby hills around dark woods Wondered, well from millions of miles away: Oh, why should these mortals sleep when we don't, The thought amusing me much like a child. I knew not when or how I fell to snore, Nor how long, but awoke with some cold chills, Hearing no sound, no intruder to fore, The steady bright star had set behind hills, The moon in stealth had tiptoed through the door, Somewhat ashamed of act as scarce before. _____________________________________________ Narrative |01.04.2024| Note: A poetic translation of Rabindranath Tagore’s story in Bengali: Kshudhaarto Paashaana, divided in I to XIII parts, largely in blank verse that lapses into rhymes along with its twists and turns. The story is known to have happened during Tagore’s stay at Shaahibaug palace in Ahmadabad, the nearby river Sabarmati becoming river Suista in the story.