Unbroken Perfection

When the creation was new and the stars
shone their first light, the splendour, gods
held their assembly in the sky, to sing: ‘Oh
the picture-perfection, what flawless joy!’

But suddenly one cried: ‘Somewhere
there is a break in the chain of light
and one of the stars
surely, has been lost!'

Now the golden string of the stars’ harp
snapped and their song stopped, in dismay
the stars cried: ‘Yes, that the lost star
was the best, the glory of all heavens!'

From that day the search for the best
is unceasing and the cry goes on from one
to the other that in the lost star
the world has lost its joy.

Only in the deepest perception, silence
of night the stars smile and whisper
among themselves: ‘Vain is this seeking
there is, always, the unbroken perfection!’

Adopted from Tagore’s Gitanjali, poem 78

Henry Victor          19.10.2012

Dancing Delusion

It is maya, delusion I create as I magnify
myself on all sides and cast coloured shadows
on your radiance, a barrier to your own being
calling your severed self in myriad notes.

Your self-separation in my body is your defeat
creating the poignant song echoing in the sky
those many coloured tears, smiles, alarms and hopes
with waves rising to sink, dreams breaking to form.

This screen you have painted with the brush
of the night and day, those innumerable figures
in front of your seat, is woven in wondrous mysteries
of curves, casting away barren lines of straightness.

The great pageant of you and me has overspread
the sky with the tune and dance of you and me,
and all the air is vibrant, and all ages pass
with the hiding and seeking of you and me.

Adopted from Tagore’s Gitanjali, poem 71

Henry Victor          14.10.2012