Waiting for Love

Oh my love you have let me wait at the door, outside

all alone as clouds heap and the sky darkens to pour
for I am in the crowd in the busy moments of noontide
but at this lonely and dark hour I hope for none but you.

If you show me not your face, if you leave me aside

wholly, I know not how to pass these long, rainy hours
for I keep gazing on the far-away gloom of the sky
and my mind wanders wailing with the restless wind.

Adopted from Tagore’s Gitanjali, poem 18

Henry Victor          06.01.2013

 

To Read

I am here to read you my poems, and in your hall
I have a corner seat, and in your world
I have no work to do, and my useless life breaks
into rhyme and rhythm without a purpose!

For your silent worship in the dark temple of midnight
command me to stand before you to read a poem
and honour me demanding my presence in the morning
when the golden harp is tuned.

Adopted from Tagore’s Gitanjali, poem 15

Henry Victor 05.01.2013

Beggar Maid’s Waiting

Love you stand behind, hiding in shadows

of others pushing, and passing you on the dusty road
taking you for nothing as I wait, my offerings spread
for you, but the passers-by pick my flowers
one by one and my basket is nearly empty.

The morning and the noon is past, and in the evening
shade my eyes are sleepy, and men going home
glance at me and smile, filling me with shame
and I sit like a beggar, drawing my skirt over my face
and when they ask what it is I want my eyes drop with no answer.

I do not know how to tell them
that it is for you I wait, and you love
have promised to come, and I cannot
due to shame, reveal my dowry, this poverty
and I hide this pride in the secret of my heart.

I sit on the grass gazing upon the sky and dream
the sudden splendour of your coming with all lights ablaze,
golden flags flying and crowds at the roadside
see you come down from your seat to raise me, a beggar
from the dust and set beside you like a creeper in summer breeze.

But many processions pass by with noise and shouts
and glamour of glory as time slides, and still the sound
of the wheels of your vehicle is not heard as you stand
behind others, silently in the shadow while I wait and weep
and wear out my heart, wasting my soul in vain longing.

Adopted from Tagore’s Gitanjali, poem 41

Henry Victor          01.01.2013

But For Now

Let me sit beside you
and gaze at your face;
my tasks I will complete later
but for now let me sit with you.

Away from the sight of your gaze
my mind is restless knowing no respite
making my work an endless toil
in a shoreless sea of slog.

The summer is at my window
with its sighs and murmurs
and the busy servant bees are working
tirelessly, collecting at your court, flowering plot.

But for me it’s time to sit
to gaze at your face!

Adopted from Tagore’s Gitanjali, poem 5

Henry Victor          09.09.2012