Childhood

RABINDRANATH TAGORE
Translated from Bengali by
HARINDRANATH CHATTOPADHYAYA

[The passing away of Harindranath Chattopadhyaya has left a great void in the literary firmament of India. He as an eminent poet, playwright, actor, painter, musician, social worker, freedom-fighter and philosopher. Born in 1898 in a reputed family of Bengal, he died in July 1990 at Bombay – full of years and honours. He was one of the distinguished contributors to TRIVENI, almost from the beginning.    Editor]

Has man the simple courage to
Remain a little child?
He has’nt ... ...Thus it is we grow so old
Our life is spent in sorting out
The silver we have pil’d,
And little bits of copper and of gold.
We heap to-morrow’s burden on
To-day the moment of its dawn.
Upon to-morrow’s the next day’s burden ...
Our search forever goes in vain,
We seek again and yet again,
And seeking, ever find an empty guerdon.

The Future fills our hearts with fear;
We, scarcely know the way,
We fix our troubled gaze on two days hence.
The Future will the Future be
To-day as yesterday,
And we are prisoned in its dark suspense.
Our lamp of Wisdom in the wind
Burns with a flame that’s nearly blind,
Our steps go moving to a muffled beat ...
At every turning of the road
We keep on adding to our load;
A hundred trivial details dog our feet.

May Childhood’s faith be mine again,
My sails again be full
Of breezes pure and bountiful and pleasant!
O with that faith the Future’s mask
This instant I would pull
Away, and see the Future in the Present.
Then, as beneath some faery’s wand,
Upon my terrace, past the pond,
The Known for the Unknown will cease to cry.
I’ll build my houses out of just
A little heap of sand and dust,
I will not have to pay for what I buy.
Grown old and wise I’ve come into
This crowded market square
When people push each other every minute.
And when the hour is struck, I’ll sell
My world, and sadly bear
My basket to the house, with nothing in it!
Thus trying to weigh my trivial wealth
The day will disappear by stealth,
And with a hollow dusk my heart be haunted
At the dim ending of my day
All weary grown, I’ll sigh and say
“I’ve never really found the thing I wanted!”

O end my life as it began!
Let Childhood’s throb again
Wake up my being with its magic stir ...
O give me my comrades all,
Remove my heavy chain
And guide once more this way-lost wanderer.
Then will my faery dream-boat toss
Upon Impossible and cross
The whirling current of its wizard stream.
And I would come to know at last
That this creation is a vast
Changing creation of our changing dream.

When first I came into the world,
Upon my body smil’d
The infant sun-god in its golden birth ...
It almost seemed as if it was
Some lone mysterious child
Who came to play with me upon the earth.
All night some silent hidden One
The dew into a garland spun,
The firefly played up-on his emerald lyre ...
I found, when dawn crept out of night,
That light was beckoning to light
And weaving symbols out of delicate fire.
In Childhood’s days I used to think:
The Wind its holiday
Spends seeking some one in the sapphire skies,
And everything within the world
In Childhood’s chariot gay
In search of a companion swiftly flies.
The branches play at budding flowers,
Flowers play at fruit in mellowing hours,
While seeds are just the inward play of fruit ..
For aye with water plays the land
And with the wind the water, and
The play of wind is just to play his flute.

With children you see aye a child.
You bring them, as of old,
Your sacket filled with tinsel and with toy ...
Across the -sky you set a-float
Balloons of blue and gold
And paint your colours on the clouds for joy,
Thus, Childhood’s rainbow season through
I stayed with you and played with you.
We danced together on the flowering way;
My tears and smiles, my moods and dreams
Went swiftly floating down the streams
Of the great rhythm running in your play.

The boats of seasons overheaped
With painted buds and flowers
Adown the tide of Time you set a-float,
But once again the seasons come
Freighted with fruitful hours
Adown Time’s rippling· river boat by boat
With your world’s flowers I wove my chain
To deck these seasons when again
The started on their voyage sail-unfurl’d ...
Hoping that they would all return
With laden boats again and burn
Their lamps of fiery blossoms in the world.
Day after day I used to sing
Neglecting all my work ...
I sang alone until the daylight’s end ...
But all the while within your eyes
I felt a laughter lurk
As though in me your soul had found a friend.
I used to love your dust and love
The light that filled your heaven above,
Your flute within my heart kept ever ringing ...
So from the songs I used to sing
You guessed that in those days of Spring
I had the power to lose me in your singing.
My day has passed by field and shore,
Its light is growing pale.
And in my world the deepening shadows quiver.
O take me in your evening-boat
And spread your evening-sail
For I am waiting now to cross the river.
Unfold again, O children’s Friend!
Your childhood-sky from end to end,
So we may play together, you and I ....
Gazing at you my eyes will see
Beyond the blinding mystery
That clothes the body of your earth and sky.

Reprinted from TRIVENI, 1934