Indian English Poems

Full are my pitchers and far to carry, Lone is the way and long, Why, O why was I tempted to tarry Lured by the boatmen’s song? Swiftly the shadows of night are falling, Hear, O hear, is the white crane calling, Is it the wild owl’s cry? There are no tender moonbeams to light me, If in the darkness a serpent should bite me, Or if an evil spirit should smite me, Ram Re Ram! I shall die. My brother will murmur, ‘Why doth she linger?’ My mother will wait and weep, Saying, ‘O safe may the great gods bring her, The Jamuna’s waters are deep…’ The Jamuna’s waters rush by so quickly, The shadows of evening gather so thickly, Like black birds in the sky… O! if the storm breaks, what will betide me? Safe from the lightning where shall I hide me? Unless Thou succor my footsteps and guide me, Ram Re Ram! I shall die.

Nay, no longer I may hold you, In my spirit’s soft caresses, Nor like lotus-leaves enfold you In the tangles of my tresses. Fairy fancies, fly away To the white cloud-wildernesses, Fly away! Nay, no longer ye may linger With your laughter-lighted faces, Now I am a thought-worn singer In life’s high and lonely places. Fairy fancies, fly away, To bright wind-in woven spaces, Fly away!

In childhood’s pride I said to Thee: ‘O Thou, who mad’st me of Thy breath, Speak, Master, and reveal to me Thine inmost laws of life and death. Give me to drink each joy and pain Which Thine eternal hand can mete, For my insatiate soul would drain Earth’s utmost bitter, utmost sweet. ‘Spare me no bliss, no pang of strife, Withhold no gift or grief I crave, The intricate lore of love and life And mystic knowledge of the grave.’ Lord, Thou didst answer stern and low; ‘Child, I will hearken to thy prayer, And thy unconquered soul shall know All passionate rapture and despair. ‘Thou shalt drink deep of joy and fame, And love shall be in thee like a fire, And pain shall cleanse thee like a flame, To purge the dross from thy desire. ‘So shall thy chastened sprit yearn To seek from its blind prayer release, And spent and pardoned, sure to learn The simple secret of My peace. ‘I, bending from my sevenfold height Will teach Thee of My quickening grace, Life is a prism of My light, And

Queen Gulnaar sat on her ivory bed, Around her countless treasures were spread; Her chamber walls were richly inlaid With agate, porphyry, onyx and jade; The tissues that veiled her delicate breast Glowed with the hues of a lapwing’s crest; But still she gazed in her mirror and sighed ‘O King, my heart is unsatisfied.’ King Feroz bent from his ebony seat: ‘Is thy least desire unfulfilled, O Sweet? ‘Let thy mouth speak and my life be spent To clear the sky of thy discontent’ ‘I tire of my beauty, I tire of this Empty splendor and shadow less bliss; ‘With none to envy and none gainsay, No savour or salt hath my dream or day.’ Queen Gulnaar sighed like amurmuring rose; ‘Give me a rival, O King Feroz.’ II King Feroz spoke to his Chief Vizier; ‘Lo! Ere to-morrow’s dawn be here, ‘Send forth my messengers over the sea, ‘To seek seven beautiful brides for me; ‘Radiant of feature and regal of mien, Seven handmaids meet for the Persian Queen.’ *              *              *