Waiting

I spent the whole night waiting for him in vain

and I fear that in the morning he may suddenly
appear at my door when I, tired, have fallen asleep!

Oh friends, leave the way open and stop him not.

If the sounds of his steps do not wake me, please

do not wake me for I wish not to be called
from my slumber by a clamorous choir of birds
or by the rioting wind at the festival of dawn light.

Undisturbed, let me sleep even if my Lord suddenly

comes to my door, for my sleep is precious but waiting
for his touch, my closed eyes open their lids to light
in his smile as he stands like a dream in a dark night.

Let him appear before my sight as the first light

and the first form; let him, with his glance, be the first
thrill of joy to my awakened soul, and let my return
to self also be the immediate return to him.

Adopted from Tagore’s Gitanjali, poem 47

Henry Victor          31.12.2012

Agony of Missing

If I do not meet you in this life
let me then forever feel that missing
forgetting not the pain of not seeing
you and carry this sorrow
both in my dreams and in wakeful hours.

As I pass my days in markets with profits
weighing me down let me count my gain
nil if I had missed you and carry this misery
the sorrow of missing you
both in my dreams and in wakeful hours.

When I sit by the roadside, tired and panting
and spread my bed to rest, help me keep in mind
the journey is long until I meet you
and to miss you is agony, a sorrow I must carry
both in my dreams and in my wakeful hours.

When my home has been decorated and the flute
sound and laughter are loud, let me feel my failure
to invite you into my house, and without you
there is only emptiness, a sting I must carry
both in my dreams and in my wakeful hours.

Adopted from Tagore’s Gitanjali, poem 79

Henry Victor          08.12.2012

From Eternity

I knew not from what eternity
you came right nearer to meet me!
Neither your sun nor the infinite
stars ever kept you hidden from me.

Both in the mornings and evenings
your footsteps had been heard
and your messenger came to me
within my heart, meeting in secret.

Today I know not why my life is agitated
within, causing a whirlwind of joy in my heart
as if the time has come to wind up my effort.
I feel a faint smell of your presence so sweet.

Adopted from Tagore’s Gitanjali, poem 46

Henry Victor          07.10.2012