Wake Up

Laziness is in your heart and sleep
fills your eyes knowing not the flower
is reigning in splendour among thorns!

Wake up my soul, waste not the time
any more, for at the end of the stony path
in the country of virgin solitude is my friend
sitting alone; disappoint him not!

The sky may pant and tremble with the heat
of the midday sun burning sand, spreading
its mantle of thirst, but you have joy in heart
in the depth, and at your footstep the harp
on your road will break into sweet music of pain!

Adopted from Tagore’s Gitanjali, poem 55

Henry Victor          12.12.2012

Time to Graze the Grace

When a day is spent on lazing, normally
I grieve over lost time knowing not
with you nothing is ever lost but your hands
take them into your bosom to hide.

Hidden in your heart with other stuff
you nourish those seeds into sprouts
later to flourish into buds and blossoms
and evolving flowers into fruits.

All this happens as I lay my tired limbs
sleeping on my idle bed imagining my work
now is ceased, but only to wake in the morning
to find my garden filled with magical flowers.

Adopted from Tagore’s Gitanjali, poem 81

Henry Victor          17.10.2012