Bondage to Finery

Playing, for child, brings no pleasure

when adorned with prince’s robes
and jewelled chains round the neck
for it will fetter him with fear.

His robes, he will think, may be frayed

or stained with dust, hence, keeping
himself away from the world, and the child
will be afraid even to make a single move.

Mother your bondage to finery is no gain
if you keep your child shut off from the healthful
dust of the earth, to rob his right of entrance
to the great fair of common human life!

Adopted from Tagore’s Gitanjali, poem 08

Henry Victor          07.01.2013

Steeped in Play

When playing with you
I never questioned who you were
and had neither shyness nor fear
while my life was also so lively.

Then in early mornings you would call
me from my sleep as if you were my own
comrade and lead me running
from one glade to another glade.

On those days I never cared to know
the meaning of songs you sang for me
but my voice picked up the tunes
while my heart danced to their beat.

Now with the playtime over
a sudden sight has come on me.
The world with eyes bent to your feet
stands in awe with all her silent stars!

Adopted from Tagore’s Gitanjali, poem 97

Henry Victor          03.12.2012