SELECTED
POEMS OF HORU THAKUR
Selected Poems of Horu Thakur
The soul
beset by God -wishes to surrender itself.
Who is this with
smeared limbs
Of sandal
wreathed with forest blossom.
For a beauty in
him gleams
Earth
bears not on her mortal bosom.
He his hair with
bloom has crowned,
And many
bees come murmuring, swarming.
Who is he that
with sweet sound
Arrests
our feet, our hearts alarming?
Daily came I to
the river,
Daily
passed these boughs of blessing,
But beneath
their shadow never
Saw such
beauty heart-caressing.
Like a cloud yet
moist with rain
His hue
is, robe of masquerader.
Ah, a girl’s
soul out to win
Outposts
here what amorous raider?
Ankle over ankle
lays
And
moonbeams from his feet make glamour;
When he moves,
at every pace
His body’s
sweets Love’s self enamour.
A strange wish
usurps my mind;
My youth,
my beauty, ah, life even
At his feet if I
resigned
Were not
that rich surrender heaven ?
Page– 279
The soul
catching a reflection of God’s face in the river of worlds, is enchanted
with its beauty.
Lolita, say
What is this
strange, sweet thing I watch today,
Fixed lightning
in the water’s quiet dreaming?
Lolita, none
Disturb a single
wave here, even one!
Great is her sin
who blots the vision gleaming.
Lolita,
see
What glimmers in
the wave so wondrously ?
Of Crishna’s
limbs it has each passionate motion.
Lolita, then
To lure my soul
comes that dark rose of men
In a shadow’s
form, and witch with strange emotion?
Lolita, daily
To bring sweet
water home we troop here gaily,
But never yet
saw in the waves such beauty.
Lolita, tell me
Why do so many
strange sweet thoughts assail me,
As moon-bloom
petals to the moon pay duty ?
Lolita, may
This be the moon
eclipsed that fain would stay
In the clear
water being from heaven effaced ?
Lolita, no,
he moon is to
the lotus bright a foe;
But this — my
heart leaps forward to embrace it.
Page– 280
III
Look, Lalita,
the stream one loves so
And Water
brings each day!
But what is this
strange light that moves so,
Jamouna today ?
What is it
shining, heaving, glimmering,
Is it a
flower or face
Thus shimmering
with the water’s shimmering
And
swaying as it sways?
Is it a lotus
darkly blooming
In
Jamouna’s clear stream?
What else the
depths opaque illuming
Could with
such beauty claim?
Is it his shadow
whom dark-burning
In sudden
bloom we see
When with our
brimming jars returning
We pass
the Tamal-tree ?
Is there in
upper heavens or under
A moon
that’s dark of hue?
By daylight does
that moon of wonder
Its mystic
dawn renew?
Page– 281
IV
The soul
recognises the Eternal for whom it has failed in its earthly conventional
duties and incurred the censure of the world.
I know him by
the eyes all hearts that ravish,
For who is
there beside him?
0 honey grace of
amorous sweetness lavish!
I know him by
his dark compelling beauty,
Once only
having spied him
For him I
stained my honour, scorned my duty.
I know him by
his feet of moonbeam brightness,
Because
for their sake purely
I live and move,
my name is taxed with lightness.
Ah now I
know him surely.
Page– 282
V
The soul
finds that the Eternal is attracted to other than itself and grows jealous.
O fondly hast
thou loved, thyself deceiving,
But he
thou lovest truth nor kindness keeps;
His tryst thou
servest, disappointed, grieving, —
He on
another’s lovelier bosom sleeps.
With Chundra’s
sweets he honeys out the hours.
If thou
believe not, come and thou wilt find him
In night’s pale
close upon a bed of flowers,
Thy Shyama
with those alien arms to bind him.
For I have seen
her languid swooning charms
And I have
seen his burning lovely youth,
Bound breast to
breast with close entwining arms
And mouth
upon inseparable mouth.
Page– 283
VI
The Eternal
departing from the soul to His kingdom of action and its duties, the latter
bemoans its loneliness.
What are these
wheels whose sudden thunder
Alarms the
ear with ominous noise?
Who brought this
chariot to tread under
Gocool,
our Paradise?
Watching the
wheels our hearts are rent asunder.
Alas! and why is
Crishna standing
With
Ocroor in the moving car?
To Mothura is he
then wending,
To Mothura afar,
The anguish in
our eyes not understanding.
What fault, what
fault in Radha finding
Hast thou
forsaken her who loved thee;
Her tears upon
thy feet not minding?
Once surely they had moved thee!
0 Radha’s Lord,
what fault in Radha finding?
But Shyama, dost
thou recollect not,
That we
have left all for thy sake ?
Of other
thought, of other love we recked not,
Labouring thy love to wake.
Thy love’s the
only thought our minds reject not.
Hast thou forgot
how we came running
At
midnight when the moon was full,
Called by thy
flute’s enamoured crooning,
Musician beautiful,
Shame and
reproach for thy sake never shunning?
Page– 284
To please thee
was our sole endeavor,
To love
thee was our sole delight;
This was our
sin; for this, 0 lover,
Dost thou desert us quite ?
Is it therefore
thou forsake us for ever ?
Ah why should I
forbid thee so ?
To Mothura
let the wheels move thee,
To Mothura if
thy heart go,
For the sad souls that love thee,
That thou art
happy is enough to know.
But 0 with
laughing face half-willing,
With eyes
that half a glance bestow
Once only our
sad eyes beguiling
Look backward ere thou go,
On Braja’s neat-herdess
once only smiling.
One last look
all our life through burning,
One last
look of our dear delight
And then to
watch the great wheels turning
Until they pass from sight,
Hopeless to see
those well-loved feet returning.
All riches that
we had, alone
Thou wast,
therefore forlorn we languish;
From empty
breasts we make our moan,
Our souls with the last anguish
Smiting in
careless beauty thou art gone!
Page– 285
VII
The soul
longs for reunion with God, without whom the sweetnesses of love and life
are vain.
All day and
night in lonely anguish wasting
The
heart’s wish to the lips unceasing comes, —
“0 that I had a
bird’s wings to go hasting
Where that dark wanderer roams!
I should behold
the flute on loved lips resting.”
Where shall I
find him, joy in his sweet kisses?
How shall
I hope my love’s feet to embrace?
0 void is home
and vain affection’s bliss is
Without the one loved face,
Crishna who has
nor home nor kindred misses.
Page– 286
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