This year, today actually, is the 150th anniversary of Rabindranath Tagore, the first Asian to win the Nobel Prize in literature. I of course, do not know as much I would like to, about all of the different forms in which he expressed himself. But whatever I do know, mainly through his songs and poems, I find very personal in a rather comforting sort of way. I suppose that is the hallmark of all enduring literature – that it should hold up a mirror for us to experience our familiar joys and doubts over and over. But with Tagore, whether you are searching for your beloved or playing with your child or remembering your parents or just taking in a star-filled sky in wonder, some song or poem invariably comes to mind, and you hum it and you think of the words, and you say “How did he know what I am feeling?” Follows below a translation I did some time ago, of the song “Daanriye Accho”. It reminds me of musical instruments, meandering rivers, distant echoes, deep longings and ancient quests.
The Other Shore of My Song
( A version of Daanriye Accho Tumi Aamar Ganer Opare)
You stand on the other shore of my song
My notes have found their words- they call out to You
Yet, You remain far away
Softly blows the breeze
Do not keep Your boat tied to the shore
Set it free, cross the river
Come into my heart for evermore
Making music with You
Is like playing to a place far away
My flute sings in distant longing
Every night and every day
When will You hear its voice?
When will You come and play?
Come in joy
Come in the silence of the dark
Come in the peace of the night
You stand on the other shore of my song
My notes have found their words- they call out to You
Yet, You remain far away
