Amongst several others, the collection includes a short poem by me, inspired by Song One from Bhanusimha Thakurer Padabali. The Bhanusimha collection, as it is now known, was published by Tagore under the pseudonym Bhanusimha Thakur at the age of sixteen. When the collection of songs was first published, literary authorities believed it to be a long-lost classic. When the authorship of the songs was discovered, Tagore shot immediately to fame.
In this song, Radha is in her garden and she imagines that the flowers mock her, asking her where her lover is. An excellent translation of the poem is here.
My own poem expands on these lines.
My own poem expands on these lines.
What the Flowers Said to Radha
Where is your lover, Radha?
Is he your lover at all?
Can his head find rest
Without the comfort of your lap?
Does he sleep at night?
Does he sleep at all?
Where is your lover, Radha?
That dark-skinned one
To whom you have opened your heart.
His darkness spills hard
Into your milk-white face –
You are more beautiful
When you think of him.
But where is he?
Do not sniff me in remembrance.
I am nothing to him,
Just like you.
Stop pining, foolish girl,
This is what men are like.
You are not the first girl
To think you have won his heart,
And you will not be the last.
Go find other men, Radha.
Do you see the shadows
Lurking on your doorstep?
They will gather in crowds
And bring wine from their houses
And satiate your lust.
Your husband waits every night,
Hoping you have remembered him.
Your dark lover will hear
Of your lovemaking,
He will throw his head back
And laugh.
He is not made for jealousy or desire.
He will spur you on,
Perhaps he will join you.
Where is your lover, Radha?
If you do not stop thinking of him,
He will never leave.
Is he your lover at all?
Can his head find rest
Without the comfort of your lap?
Does he sleep at night?
Does he sleep at all?
Where is your lover, Radha?
That dark-skinned one
To whom you have opened your heart.
His darkness spills hard
Into your milk-white face –
You are more beautiful
When you think of him.
But where is he?
Do not sniff me in remembrance.
I am nothing to him,
Just like you.
Stop pining, foolish girl,
This is what men are like.
You are not the first girl
To think you have won his heart,
And you will not be the last.
Go find other men, Radha.
Do you see the shadows
Lurking on your doorstep?
They will gather in crowds
And bring wine from their houses
And satiate your lust.
Your husband waits every night,
Hoping you have remembered him.
Your dark lover will hear
Of your lovemaking,
He will throw his head back
And laugh.
He is not made for jealousy or desire.
He will spur you on,
Perhaps he will join you.
Where is your lover, Radha?
If you do not stop thinking of him,
He will never leave.
