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The Hungry Stones X

As I was set to go out on my horse 
One eve, despite pleads to stay from my course, 
Prone I was to take my hat from the rack, 
A whirlwind crested from the dusty tract, 
Lifting dead leaves from Aravalli hills, 
Twirling them high along the palace ills, 
While a loud peal of a wild laughter rose, 
And soon died in the land the sun follows, 
Robbing my dare and joy ride in the wood, 
It robbed too my queer English hat for good. 

The night was old when unknown sobs I heard, 
Heart-rending, stifled, right below my bed, 
Nay, as if from an unknown nether world, 
Perchance from many a sacrificed head, 
From darkling depths of a damp grave of old, 
A voice piteously crying taking my hold, 
Imploring me, ‘do something, rescue me 
From what eternal prison seems to be, 
This deathlike slumber, fruitless dreamy ills, 
Place me beside a racing horse saddle, 
Press me close to your heart, riding through hills, 
And woods, and across a dried-out puddle, 
Take me to sunny spots from dark, new thrills. 

Many a doubt flashed in my silent mind: 
Why of all me, how can I rescue thee? 
What passions shall draw thee out and ashore? 
O Beauty, from this wild whirlpool of dreams, 
Do tell me whence didst thou flourish and when, 
By which cool spring, in what shady date-groves, 
Thou wert born in whose lap, in what homeless 
Wanderer, what desert, and which 
Bedouin Snatched thee from mom’s arms, do tell me, 
A mere bud wert thou plucked from a creeper, 
And placed upon a horse, lightning swift flash, 
Far, far across the scorching desert sands, 
O to slave-mart of what royal city? 
Seeing the glory of blossoming youth, 
To which chieftain hast thou been taken to, 
Placing thee in a golden palanquin 
As royal gift fit for an emperor. 
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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.  




Copyright © Aniruddha Pathak

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