Such writings are rare which paint a picture in your mind, and you can SEE exactly what the writer has seen in his mind; when not a single word seems unnecessary; when each and every word makes sense and adds to the beauty of the writing. For me, this experience happened while reading Tagore’s poetry collection called Lover’s Gift, especially this wonderful piece called The Child. I can’t help it if Tagore finds a way into Poetry Corner every week; he’s too awesome NOT to be discussed.
See for yourself:
‘Come, moon, come down, kiss my darling on the forehead,’ cries the mother as she holds the baby girl in her lap while the moon smiles as it dreams. There come stealing in the dark the vague fragrance of the summer and the night-bird’s songs from the shadow-laden solitude of the mango grove. At a far-away village rises from a peasant’s flute a fountain of plaintive notes, and the young mother sitting on the terrace, baby in her lap, croons sweetly, ‘Come, moon, come down, kiss my darling on the forehead.’ Once she looks up at the light of the sky, and then at the light of the earth in her arms, and I wonder at the placid silence of the moon.
The baby laughs and repeats her mother’s call, ‘Come, moon, come down.’ The mother smiles, and smiles the moonlit night, and I, the poet, the husband of the baby’s mother, watch this picture from behind, unseen.
~ From Lover’s Gift
The world that a mother and her baby share is extremely beautiful. It is a touching experience to watch them together. Both think the world of each other. Tagore brings out this bond between the ‘light of the earth’ and her mother beautifully and paints a picture with his words, as he always does.
What say you, people?