Crescent Moon-Rabindranath Tagore

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Chapter one of the Crescent Moon. This is a LibriVox recording.
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All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more
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information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org. Recording
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by Anusha a Year the Crescent Moon by Rabindranath Tago
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poems one to five the home. I paced alone on
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the road across the fields, while the sunset was hiding
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its last gold like a miser. The daylight sank deeper
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and deeper into the darkness, and the widowed land whose
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harvest had been reaped lay silent. Suddenly, a boy's shrill
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voice rose into the sky. He traversed the dark unscene,
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leaving the track of his song across the hush of
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the evening. His village home lay there the end of
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the wasteland, beyond the sugar cane field, hidden among the
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shadows of the banana and the slender arika palm, the
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cocoa nut, and the dark green jackfruit trees. I stopped
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for a moment in my lonely way under the starlight,
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and saw spread before me the darkened earth, surrounding with
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her arms countless homes furnished with cradles and beds, mothers, hearts,
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and evening lambs and young lives, glad with the gladness
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that knows nothing of its value for the world. On
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the sea shore, on the seashore of endless worlds, children meet.
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The infinite sky is motionless overhead, and the restless water
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is boisterous. On the seashore of endless words, the children
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meet with shouts and dances. They build their houses with sand,
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and they play with empty shells with withered leaves. They
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weave their boats and smilingly float them on the vast deep.
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Children have their play on the sea shore of whirls.
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They know not how to swim, They know not how
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to cast nets. Pearl fishers dive for pearls. Merchants sail
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in their ships, while children gather pebbles and scatter them again.
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They seek not for hidden treasures. They know not how
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to cast nets. The sea surges up with laughter and
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pale gleams, the smile of the sea beach, death dealing waves,
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sing meaningless ballads to the children, even like a mother
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while rocking her baby's cradle. The sea plays with children
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and pale gleams the smile of the sea beach. On
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the sea shore, of endless worlds, children meet tempest roams
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in the partless sky, are wrecked in the trackless water.
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Death is abroad, and children play on the sea. Shore
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of endless worlds is the great meeting of children. The
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source the sleep that flits on baby's eyes. Does anybody
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know from where it comes? Yes, there is a rumor
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that it has its dwelling way in the fairy village,
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among shadows of the forest, dimly lit with glow worms,
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there hang two shy buds of enchantment. From there it
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comes to kiss baby's eyes. The smile that flickers on
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baby's lips when he sleeps. Does anybody know where it
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was born? Yes, there is a rumor that a young,
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pale beam of a crescent moon touched the edge of
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a vanishing autumn cloud, and there the smile was first born,
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in the dream of a dew washed morning. The smile
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that flickers on baby's lips when he sleeps, The sweet
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soft freshness that blooms on baby's limbs. Does anybody know
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where it was hidden? So long? Yes, When the mother
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was a young girl, it lay pervading her heart in
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tender and silent mystery or love. The sweet, soft freshness
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that has bloomed on Baby's limbs, Baby's way. If Baby
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only wanted to, he could fly up to Heaven this moment.
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It is not for nothing that he does not leave us.
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He loves to rest his head on Mother's bosom and
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cannot ever bear to lose sight of her. Baby knows
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all manner of wise words, though few on earth can
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understand their meaning. It is not for nothing that he
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never wants to speak. The one thing he wants is
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to learn mother's words from mother's lips. That is why
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he looks so innocent. Baby had a heap of gold
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and pearls, yet he came like a beggar on to
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this earth. It is not for nothing he came in
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such a disguise. This dear little naked mendicant pretends to
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be utterly helpless so that he may beg for Mother's
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wealth of love. Baby was so free from every tie
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in the land of the tiny crescent moon. It was
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not for nothing he gave up his freedom. He knows
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that there is room for endless joy in Mother's little
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corner of her heart, and it is sweeter far than liberty,
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to be caught and pressed in her dear arms baby
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never knew how to cry. He dwelt in the land
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of perfect bliss. It is not for nothing he has
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chosen to shed tears. Though with the smile of his
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dear face he draws mother's yearning heart to him. Yet
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his little cries, O, where tiny troubles weave the double
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bond of pity and love? The unheeded pageant? Ah, who
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was it colored that little frock, my child? And covered
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your sweet limbs with that little red tunic? You have
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come out in the morning to play in the courtyard,
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tottering and tumbling as you run? But who was it
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colored that little frock, my child? What is it makes
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you laugh? My little life? Bud? Mother smiles at you
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standing on the threshold. She claps her hands and her
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bracelets jingle, and you dance with your bamboo stick in
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your hand like a tiny little shepherd. But what is
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it makes you laugh? My little life, Bud? Oh beggar,
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what do you beg for clinging to your mother's neck
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with both your hands, Oh greedy heart? Shall I pluck
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the world like a fruit from the sky to place
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it on your little rosy palm? O, beggar, what are
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you begging for The wind carries away in glee, the
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tinkling of your anklet bells. The sun smiles and watches
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your toilet. The sky watches over you when you sleep
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in your mother's arms, And the morning comes tiptoe to
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your bed and kisses your eyes. The wind carries away
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in glee, the tinkling of your anklet bells. The fairy
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mistress of dreams is coming towards you, flying through the
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twilight sky. The world mother keeps her seat by you,
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in your mother's heart. He who plays his music to
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the stars is standing at your window with his flute.
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And the fairy Mistress of dreams is coming towards you,
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flying through the twilight sky. End of chapter one, Chapter
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two of the Crescent Moon by rabindr Go. This LibriVox
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recording is in the public domain. Poems six to ten
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Sleep stealer, who stole sleep from baby's eyes? I must know.
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Clasping her pitcher to her waist, mother went to fetch
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water from the village near by. It was noon, The
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children's playtime was over. The ducks in the pond were silent.
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The shepherd boy lay asleep under the shadow of the
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Banyan tree. The crane stood grave and still in the
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swamp near the mango grove. In the meanwhile, the sleep
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stealer came, and, snatching sleep from baby's eyes, flew away.
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When mother came back, she found baby traveling the room
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over on all fours. Who stole sleep from our baby's eyes?
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I must know? I must find her and chain her up.
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I must look into that dark cave, where, through boulders
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and scowling stones trickles a tiny stream. I must search
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in the drowsy shade of the barcla grove, where pigeons
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cool in their corner, and fairies anklets tinkle in the
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stillness of starry nights. In the evening, I will peep
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into the whispering silence of the bamboo forest, where fireflies
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squander their light, and will ask every creature I meet,
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Can anybody tell me where the sleep stealer lives? Who
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stole sleep from babies eyes? I must know? Shouldn't I
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give her a good lesson? If I could only catch her,
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I would raid her nest and see where she hoards
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all her stolen sleep. I would plunder it all and
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carry it home. I would bind her two wings securely
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set her on the bank of the river, and then
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let her play at fishing with a reed among the
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rushes and water lilies. When the marketing is over in
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the evening, and the village children sit in their mother's laps,
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then the night birds will mockingly din her years with
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whose sleep will you steal? Now the beginning? Where have
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I come from? Where did you pick me up? The
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baby asked its mother. She answered, half crying, half laughing,
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and clasping the baby to her breast. You were hidden
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in my heart as its desire, My darling, you were
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in the dolls of my childhood's games. And when with
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clay I made the image of my God, every morning
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I made and unmade you. Then you were enshrined with
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our household deity in his worship. I worshiped you in
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all my hopes and my loves, in my life, in
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the life of my mother. You have lived in the
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lap of the deathless spirit who rules our home. You
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have been nursed for ages. When in girlhood my heart
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was opening its petals, you hovered as a fragrance about it.
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Your tender softness bloomed in my youthful limbs like a
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glow in the sky. Before the sun rise, Heaven's first
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darling twin born with the morning light, you have floated
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down the stream of the world's life, and at last
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you have stranded on my heart. As I gaze on
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your face, mystery overwhelms me. You, who belong to all,
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have become mine. For fear of losing you, I hold
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you tight to my breast. What magic has snared the
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world's treasure in these slender arms of mine baby's world.
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I wish I could take a quiet corner in the
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heart of my baby's very own world. I know it
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has stars that talked to him, and a sky that
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stoops down to his face to amuse him with its
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silly clouds and rain. Those who make believe to be
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dumb and look as if they never could move, come
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creeping to his window with their stories and with trays
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crowded with bright toys. I wish I could travel by
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the road that crosses babies mind and out beyond all bounds,
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where messengers run errands for no cause, between the kingdoms
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of kings of no history, where reason makes kites of
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her laws and flies them, and truth sets fact free
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from its fetters. When and why, when I bring you
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colored toys, my child, I understand why there is such
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a play of colors on clouds, on water, and why
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flowers are painted in tints when I give colored toys
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to you, my child. When I sing to make you dance,
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I truly know why there is music in leaves, and
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why waves send their chorus of voices to the heart
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of the listening earth when I sing to make you dance.
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When I bring sweet things to your greedy hands, I
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know why there is honey in the cup of the flower,
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and why fruits are secretly filled with sweet juice when
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I bring sweet things to your greedy hands. When I
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kiss your face to make you smile, my darling, I
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surely understand what pleasure streams from the sky in morning light,
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and what delight the summer breeze brings to my body
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when I kiss you to make you smile. Defamation? Why
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are those tears in your eyes, my child? How horrid
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of them to be always scolding you for nothing? You
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have stained your fingers and face with ink while writing.
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Is that why they call you dirty? Oh fie? Would
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they dare to call the full moon dirty because it
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has smudged its face with ink? For every little trifle.
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They blame you, my child. They are ready to find
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fault for nothing. You tore your clothes while playing? Is
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that why they call you untidy? Oh Fi? What would
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they call an autumn morning that smiles through its ragged clouds.
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Take no heed of what they say to you, my child.
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Take no heed of what they say to you, my child.
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They make a long list of your misdeeds. Everybody knows
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how you love sweet things? Is that why they call you? Greedy?
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Oh Fi? What then would they call us who love you?
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End of chapter two, Chapter three of The Crescent Moon
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by Rabindra Nath Tago. This Librivax recording is in the
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public domain. Poems eleven to fifteen. The judge say of
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him what you please. But I know my child's failings.
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I do not love him because he is good, but
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because he is my little child. How should you know
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how dare he can be when you try to weigh
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his merits against his faults. When I must punish him,
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he becomes all the more a part of my being.
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When I cause his tears to come, my heart weeps
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with him. I alone have a right to blame and punish,
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for he only may chastise who loves playthings. Child, How
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happy you are sitting in the dust playing with a
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broken twig all the morning. I smile at your play
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with that little bit of a broken twig. I am
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busy with my accounts, adding up figures by the hour.
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Perhaps you glance at me and think, what a stupid
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game to spoil your morning with, child, I have forgotten
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the art of being absorbed in sticks and mud pies.
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I seek out costly playthings and gather lumps of gold
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and silver. With whatever you find, you create your glad games.
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I spend both my time and my strength over things
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I never can obtain. In my frail canoe, I struggle
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to cross the sea of desire, and forget that I, too,
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am playing a game the astronomer, I only said, when
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in the evening the round full moon gets entangled among
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the branches of that goddam tree, couldn't somebody catch it?
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But Dada laughed at me and said, baby, you are
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the silliest child I have ever known. The moon is
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ever so far from us, How could anybody catch it?
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I said, Dada, how foolish you are. When mother looks
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out of her window and smiles down at us playing
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would you call her far away? Still said you are
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a stupid child. But baby, where could you find a
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net big enough to catch the moon with? I said,
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surely you could catch it with your hands. But Dada
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laughed and said, you are the silliest child I have known.
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If it came nearer, you would see how big the
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moon is. I said, Tadau, what nonsense they teach at
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your school. When mother bends her face down to kiss us,
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does her face look very big? But still Dada says, Hugh,
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00:17:29.400 --> 00:17:36.920
are a stupid child. Clouds and waves. Mother. The folk
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who live up in the clouds call out to me.
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We play from the time we wake till the day ends.
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We play with the golden dawn. We play with the
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silver moon. I ask, but how am I to get
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up to you? They answer, Come to the edge of
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the earth, lift up your hands to the sky, and
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you will be taken up into the cloud. My mother
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is waiting for me at home. I say, how can
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I leave her and come? Then they smile and float away.
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But I know a nicer game than that. Mother. I
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shall be the cloud and you the moon. I shall
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cover you with both my hands, and our house top
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will be the blue sky. The folk who live in
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the waves call out to me. We sing from morning
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till night, on and on we travel and know not
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where we pass. I ask, But how am I to
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join you? They tell me. Come to the edge of
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the shore and stand with your eyes tight shut, and
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you will be carried out upon the waves. I say,
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my mother always wants me at home in the evening.
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How can I leave her and go? Then they smile,
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dance and pass by. But I know a better game
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than that. I will be the waves, and you will
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be a strange shore. I shall roll on and on
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and on, and break upon your lap with laughter, and
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no one in the world will know where we both are.
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The chumper flower. Supposing I became a chumper flower just
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for fun, and grew on a branch high up that tree,
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and shook in the wind with laughter, and danced upon
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the newly budded leaves. Would you know me? Mother? You
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would call, baby, where are you? And I should laugh
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to myself and keep quite quiet. I should slyly open
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my petals and watch you at your work. When after
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your bath, with wet hair spread on your shoulders, you
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walked through the shadow of the chumpa tree to the
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little court where you say your prayers. You would notice
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the scent of the flower, but not know that it
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came from me. When after the midday meal you sat
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at the window reading Ramaiyon, and the the tree's shadow
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00:20:01.079 --> 00:20:04.400
fell over your hair and your lap. I should fling
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my wee little shadow on to the page of your book,
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just where you were reading. But would you guess that
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it was the tiny shadow of your little child. When
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in the evening you went to the cow shed with
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the lighted lamp in your hand. I should suddenly drop
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on to the earth again and be your own baby
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once more, and beg you to tell me a story.
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Where have you been, you naughty child? I won't tell you, mother,
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That's what you and I would say then. End of
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chapter three, chapter four of The Crescent Moon by Rabindranath Tagore.
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This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Poems sixteen
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to twenty Fairyland. If people came to know where my
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King's palace is, it would vanish into the air. The
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00:21:06.160 --> 00:21:09.799
walls are of white silver and the roof of shining gold.
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The queen lives in a palace with seven courtyards, and
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she wears a jewel that cost all the wealth of
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seven kingdoms. But let me tell you, mother, in a whisper,
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where my king's palace is. It is at the corner
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of our terrace where the pot of the tulsi plant stands.
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The princess lies sleeping on the far away shore of
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the seven impassable seas. There is none in the world
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who can find her but myself. She has bracelets on
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her arms, and pearl drops in her ears. Her hair
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sweeps down upon the floor. She will wake when I
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touch her with my magic wand, and jewels will fall
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from her lips when she smiles. But let me whisper
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in your ear, mother, she is there in the corner
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of our terrace where the pot of the tulsi plant stands.
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When it is time for you to go to the
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river for your bath, step up to that terrace on
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the roof. I sit in the corner where the shadows
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of the walls meet together. Only Puss is allowed to
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come with me, for she knows where the Babo in
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the story lives. But let me whisper, mother, in your ear,
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where the Babo in the story lives. It is at
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the corner of the terrace where the pot of the
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tulsi plant stands. The land of the exile Mother, the
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light has grown gray in the sky. I do not
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know where the time is. There is no fun in
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my play, so I have to come to you. It
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is Saturday, our holiday. Leave off your work. Mother, Sit
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here by the window, and tell me where the desert
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of thee Panther in the fairy tale is. The shadow
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of the rains has covered the day from end to end.
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The fierce lightning is scratching the sky with its nails.
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When the clouds rumble and it thunders. I love to
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be afraid in my heart and cling to you when
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the heavy rain patters for hours on the bamboo leaves,
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and our windows shake and rattle at the gusts of wind.
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I like to sit alone in the room, mother, with you,
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and hear you talk about the desert of te Panther
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in the fairy tale? Where is it? Mother? On the
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shore of what sea, at the foot of what hills,
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in the kingdom of what king There are no hedges
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there to mark the fields, no footpath across it by
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which the villagers reach their village in the evening. Or
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the woman who gathers dry sticks in the forest can
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bring her load to the market. With patches of yellow
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grass in the sand, and only one tree where the
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pair of wise old birds have their nest lies the
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desert of te Panther. I can imagine how, on such
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a cloudy day the young son of the king is
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riding alone on a gray horse through the desert in
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search of the princess who lies imprisoned in the giant's
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palace across that unknown water. When the haze of the
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rain comes down in the distant sky and lightning starts
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up like a sudden fit of pain, does he remember
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his unhappy mother, abandoned by the king, sweeping the cowstall
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and wiping her eyes while he rides through the desert
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of the Panther. In the fairy tale see Mother, it
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is almost dark before the day is over, and there
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are no travelers yonder on the village road. The shepherd
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boy has gone home early from the pasture, and men
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have left their fields to sit on mats under the
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eaves of their huts, watching the scowling clouds. Mother, I
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have left all my books on the shelf. Do not
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ask me to do my lessons now, when when I
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grow up and am big like my father. I shall
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learn all that must be learnt, But just for to day.
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Tell me mother, where the desert of the panther in
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the fairy tale is the rainy day. Sullen clouds are
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gathering fast over the black fringe of the forest. Oh child,
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do not go out. The palm trees in a row
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by the lake are smiting their heads against the dismal sky.
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The crows, with their draggled wings, are silent on the
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tamarind branches, and the eastern bank of the river is
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haunted by a deepening gloom. Our cow is lowing loud,
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tied at the fence. Oh child, wait here till I
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bring her into the stall. Men have crowded into the
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flooded field to catch the fishes as they escape from
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the overflowing ponds. The rain water is running in rills
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through the narrow lanes, like a laughing boy who has
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run away from his mother to tease her. Listen, some
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one is shouting for the boatmen at the ford, Oh child.
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The daylight is dim, and the crossing at the ferry
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is closed. The sky seems to ride fast upon the
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madly rushing rain. The water in the river is loud
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and impatient women have hastened home early from the Ganges
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with their filled pitchers. The evening lamps must be made ready,
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Oh child, do not go out. The road to the
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market is desolate. The lane to the river is slippery.
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The wind is roaring and struggling among the bamboo branches,
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like a wild beast tangled in a net. Paper boats.
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Day by day I float my paper boats one by
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one down the running stream. In big black letters. I
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write my name on them, and the name of the
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village where I live. I hope that some one in
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00:27:00.319 --> 00:27:03.400
some strange land will find them and know who I am.
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00:27:04.559 --> 00:27:07.759
I load my little boats with shuwly flowers from our
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00:27:07.759 --> 00:27:10.920
garden and hope that these blooms of the dawn will
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be carried safely to land. In the night, I launch
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00:27:15.400 --> 00:27:18.039
my paper boats and look up in the sky and
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00:27:18.119 --> 00:27:22.680
see the little clouds setting their white, bulging sails. I
401
00:27:22.759 --> 00:27:25.759
know not what playmate of mine in the sky sends
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00:27:25.759 --> 00:27:29.400
them down the air to race with my boats. When
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00:27:29.480 --> 00:27:32.480
night comes, I bury my face in my arms and
404
00:27:32.599 --> 00:27:35.920
dream that my paper boats float on and on under
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the midnight stars. The fairies of sleep are sailing in them,
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and the lading is their baskets full of dreams. The
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00:27:46.440 --> 00:27:51.599
sailor the boat of the boatman Madu, is moored at
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00:27:51.599 --> 00:27:55.920
the wharf of Rajganj. It is uselessly laden with jute,
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00:27:56.200 --> 00:27:58.839
and has been lying there idle for ever so long.
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00:27:59.519 --> 00:28:02.480
If he would only lend me his boat, I should
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00:28:02.480 --> 00:28:06.400
man her with a hundred oars and hoist sails five
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or six or seven. I should never steer her to
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stupid markets. I should sail the seven seas and the
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thirteen rivers of Fairyland. But mother, you won't weep for
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00:28:19.039 --> 00:28:22.200
me in a corner. I am not going into the
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forest like Ramachandra, to come back only after fourteen years.
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I shall become the prince of the story and fill
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my boat with whatever I like. I shall take my
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00:28:32.960 --> 00:28:36.720
friend Ashu with me. We shall sail merrily across the
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seven seas and the thirteen rivers of Fairyland. We shall
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00:28:40.960 --> 00:28:45.039
set sail in the early morning light, when at noontide
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00:28:45.039 --> 00:28:47.240
you are bathing at the pond. We shall be in
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the land of a strange king. We shall pass the
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00:28:50.680 --> 00:28:54.480
ford of Tirpurni and leave behind us the desert of
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00:28:54.599 --> 00:28:58.279
thee Panther. When we come back. It will be getting dark,
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00:28:58.720 --> 00:29:01.480
and I shall tell you all that we have seen.
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I shall cross the seven seas and the thirteen rivers
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of Ferryland. End of chapter four, Chapter five of The
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00:29:18.240 --> 00:29:22.839
Crescent Moon by Rabindranath Tagor. This LibriVox recording is in
430
00:29:22.920 --> 00:29:29.200
the public domain, Poems twenty one to twenty five. The
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00:29:29.279 --> 00:29:33.720
Further Bank. I long to go over there, to the
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00:29:33.720 --> 00:29:37.079
further bank of the river, where those boats are tied
433
00:29:37.200 --> 00:29:40.519
to the bamboo poles in a line, where men cross
434
00:29:40.599 --> 00:29:43.799
over in their boats in the morning, with plows on
435
00:29:43.839 --> 00:29:47.839
their shoulders to till their far away fields, where the
436
00:29:47.880 --> 00:29:52.319
cowherds make their lowing cattle swim across to the riverside pasture.
437
00:29:53.440 --> 00:29:56.759
Whence they all come back home in the evening, leaving
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00:29:56.799 --> 00:30:01.319
the jackals to howl in the island overgrown with weeds. Mother,
439
00:30:01.759 --> 00:30:04.279
If you don't mind, I should like to become the
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00:30:04.279 --> 00:30:07.720
boatmen of the Ferry when I'm grown up. They say.
441
00:30:07.759 --> 00:30:11.519
There are strange pools hidden behind that high bank, where
442
00:30:11.519 --> 00:30:14.599
flocks of wild ducks come when the rains are over,
443
00:30:15.119 --> 00:30:18.039
and thick reeds grow round the margins, where water birds
444
00:30:18.119 --> 00:30:22.359
lay their eggs, where snipes with their dancing tails stamp
445
00:30:22.440 --> 00:30:26.480
their tiny footprints upon the clean, soft mud, where in
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00:30:26.519 --> 00:30:30.720
the evening the tall grasses, crested with white flowers, invite
447
00:30:30.759 --> 00:30:35.160
the moonbeam to float upon their waves. Mother, if you
448
00:30:35.200 --> 00:30:37.640
don't mind, I should like to become the boatmen of
449
00:30:37.680 --> 00:30:41.039
the ferry boat. When I'm grown up, I shall cross
450
00:30:41.079 --> 00:30:44.440
and cross back from bank to bank, and all the
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00:30:44.440 --> 00:30:46.759
boys and girls of the village will wonder at me
452
00:30:46.880 --> 00:30:50.599
while they are bathing. When the sun climbs the mid
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00:30:50.640 --> 00:30:53.799
sky and morning wears on to noon, I shall come
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00:30:53.920 --> 00:30:58.039
running to you, saying mother, I am hungry. When the
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00:30:58.119 --> 00:31:01.519
day is done and the shadows cour under the trees,
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00:31:01.759 --> 00:31:04.960
I shall come back in the dusk. I shall never
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00:31:05.039 --> 00:31:09.519
go away from you into the town to work like father. Mother.
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00:31:09.720 --> 00:31:11.799
If you don't mind, I should like to become the
459
00:31:11.799 --> 00:31:16.240
boatmen of the ferry boat when I'm grown up. The
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00:31:16.319 --> 00:31:21.519
flowers cool. When storm clouds rumble in the sky and
461
00:31:21.680 --> 00:31:26.359
June showers come down, the moist east wind comes marching
462
00:31:26.480 --> 00:31:30.920
over the heath to blow its bagpipes among the bamboos.
463
00:31:31.519 --> 00:31:34.559
Then crowds of flowers come out of a sudden from
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00:31:34.559 --> 00:31:40.240
nobody knows where, and dance upon the grass in wild glee, Mother,
465
00:31:40.599 --> 00:31:44.920
I really think the flowers go to school underground. They
466
00:31:44.920 --> 00:31:48.240
do their lessons with doors shut, and if they want
467
00:31:48.319 --> 00:31:51.119
to come out to play before it is time, their
468
00:31:51.240 --> 00:31:55.200
master makes them stand in a corner. When the rain comes,
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00:31:55.240 --> 00:31:59.680
they have their holidays. Branches clash together in the forest,
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00:32:00.160 --> 00:32:03.240
and the leaves rustle in the wild wind. The thunder
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00:32:03.240 --> 00:32:07.039
clouds clap their giant hands, and the flower children rush
472
00:32:07.079 --> 00:32:11.559
out in dresses of pink and yellow and white. Do
473
00:32:11.680 --> 00:32:14.839
you know, mother, their home is in the sky where
474
00:32:14.880 --> 00:32:18.400
the stars are. Haven't you seen how eager they are
475
00:32:18.440 --> 00:32:21.039
to get there. Don't you know why they are in
476
00:32:21.119 --> 00:32:25.200
such a hurry. Of course I can guess to whom
477
00:32:25.279 --> 00:32:28.079
they raise their arms. They have their mother, as I
478
00:32:28.119 --> 00:32:35.160
have my own, the merchant. Imagine, mother, that you are
479
00:32:35.200 --> 00:32:37.359
to stay at home and I am to travel into
480
00:32:37.400 --> 00:32:41.559
strange lands. Imagine that my boat is ready at the landing,
481
00:32:41.680 --> 00:32:46.200
fully laden. Now think well, mother, before you say what
482
00:32:46.319 --> 00:32:49.720
I shall bring for you when I come back. Mother,
483
00:32:50.160 --> 00:32:55.000
do you want heaps and heaps of gold? There By
484
00:32:55.000 --> 00:32:58.960
the banks of golden streams, fields are full of golden harvest,
485
00:33:00.039 --> 00:33:02.680
and in the shade of the forest path the golden
486
00:33:02.759 --> 00:33:07.319
chumper flowers drop on the ground. I will gather them
487
00:33:07.400 --> 00:33:12.039
all for you in many hundred baskets. Mother, do you
488
00:33:12.079 --> 00:33:16.359
want pearls big as the rain drops of autumn? I
489
00:33:16.400 --> 00:33:19.720
shall cross to the pearl island shore. There in the
490
00:33:19.759 --> 00:33:24.240
early morning light, pearls tremble on the meadow flowers, pearls
491
00:33:24.279 --> 00:33:27.160
drop on the grass, and pearls are scattered on the
492
00:33:27.240 --> 00:33:31.680
sand in spray by the wild sea waves. My brother
493
00:33:31.759 --> 00:33:34.319
shall have a pair of horses with wings to fly
494
00:33:34.480 --> 00:33:38.359
among the clouds. For father. I shall bring a magic
495
00:33:38.480 --> 00:33:45.240
pen that, without his knowing, will write of itself. For you, Mother,
496
00:33:46.039 --> 00:33:49.279
I must have the casket and jewel that cost seven
497
00:33:49.400 --> 00:33:56.319
kings their kingdoms sympathy. If I were only a little puppy,
498
00:33:56.759 --> 00:34:00.279
not your baby, mother dear, would you say not to me?
499
00:34:00.440 --> 00:34:03.480
If I tried to eat from your dish? Would you
500
00:34:03.599 --> 00:34:06.799
drive me off, saying to me, get away, you naughty
501
00:34:06.839 --> 00:34:11.639
little puppy, Then go, mother, go. I will never come
502
00:34:11.679 --> 00:34:13.920
to you when you call me, and never let you
503
00:34:14.000 --> 00:34:17.840
feed me any more. If I were only a little
504
00:34:17.880 --> 00:34:21.840
green parrot and not your baby mother dear, would you
505
00:34:21.920 --> 00:34:25.800
keep me chained lest I should fly away? Would you
506
00:34:25.840 --> 00:34:28.920
shake your finger at me and say, what an ungrateful
507
00:34:29.000 --> 00:34:31.760
wretch of a bird. It is gnawing at its chain
508
00:34:31.840 --> 00:34:35.960
day and night. Then go, mother, go, I will run
509
00:34:36.000 --> 00:34:38.400
away into the woods. I will never let you take
510
00:34:38.480 --> 00:34:45.280
me in your arms again. Vocation. When the gong sounds
511
00:34:45.360 --> 00:34:47.920
ten in the morning, and I walk to school by
512
00:34:47.920 --> 00:34:52.239
a lane, every day, I meet the hawker crying bengals,
513
00:34:52.360 --> 00:34:57.360
crystal bengles. There is nothing to hurry him on. There
514
00:34:57.400 --> 00:35:00.880
is no road he must take, no place he must
515
00:35:01.360 --> 00:35:05.159
no time when he must come home. I wish I
516
00:35:05.199 --> 00:35:08.199
were a hawker spending my day in the road, crying
517
00:35:08.639 --> 00:35:14.000
bengals crystal bangles. When at four in the afternoon I
518
00:35:14.079 --> 00:35:16.559
come back from the school, I can see through the
519
00:35:16.599 --> 00:35:20.800
gate of that house the gardener digging the ground. He
520
00:35:20.840 --> 00:35:24.079
does what he likes with his spade. He soils his
521
00:35:24.239 --> 00:35:28.000
clothes with dust. Nobody takes him to task. If he
522
00:35:28.079 --> 00:35:31.559
gets baked in the sun or gets wet, I wish
523
00:35:31.559 --> 00:35:34.440
I were a gardener, digging away at the garden, with
524
00:35:34.599 --> 00:35:38.840
nobody to stop me from digging. Just as it gets
525
00:35:38.920 --> 00:35:41.800
dark in the evening and my mother sends me to bed,
526
00:35:42.280 --> 00:35:45.239
I can see through my open window the watchman walking
527
00:35:45.320 --> 00:35:49.159
up and down the lane. Is dark and lonely, and
528
00:35:49.239 --> 00:35:52.239
the street lamp stands like a giant with one red
529
00:35:52.239 --> 00:35:56.480
eye in its head. The watchman swings his lantern and
530
00:35:56.639 --> 00:35:59.679
walks with his shadow at his side, and never once
531
00:35:59.719 --> 00:36:03.360
goes to bed in his life. I wish I were
532
00:36:03.360 --> 00:36:07.159
a watchman, walking the streets all night, chasing the shadows
533
00:36:07.159 --> 00:36:19.159
with my lantern. End of chapter five, Chapter six of
534
00:36:19.320 --> 00:36:23.320
The Crescent Moon by Rabindra Na Tegor. This LibriVox recording
535
00:36:23.440 --> 00:36:28.320
is in the public domain. Poems twenty six to thirty
536
00:36:30.119 --> 00:36:37.639
Superior Mother, Your baby is silly. She is so absurdly childish.
537
00:36:37.800 --> 00:36:40.199
She does not know the difference between the lights in
538
00:36:40.280 --> 00:36:43.679
the streets and the stars. When we play at eating
539
00:36:43.719 --> 00:36:47.039
with pebbles, she thinks they are real food and tries
540
00:36:47.079 --> 00:36:50.440
to put them into her mouth. When I open a
541
00:36:50.480 --> 00:36:53.159
book before her and ask her to learn her A.
542
00:36:53.280 --> 00:36:56.199
B C. She tears the leaves with her hands and
543
00:36:56.360 --> 00:36:59.960
roars for joy at nothing. This is your baby's wis
544
00:37:00.280 --> 00:37:03.880
of doing her lesson. When I shake my head at
545
00:37:03.880 --> 00:37:07.119
her in anger and scold her and call her naughty,
546
00:37:07.679 --> 00:37:12.199
she laughs and thinks it great fun. Everybody knows that
547
00:37:12.320 --> 00:37:15.119
father is away, but if in play I call a
548
00:37:15.159 --> 00:37:19.119
loud father She looks about her in excitement and thinks
549
00:37:19.159 --> 00:37:22.639
that father is near. When I hold my class with
550
00:37:22.719 --> 00:37:26.360
the donkeys that a washerman brings to carry away the clothes,
551
00:37:26.639 --> 00:37:29.559
and I warn her that I am the schoolmaster, she
552
00:37:29.639 --> 00:37:33.719
will scream for no reason and call me Dada. Your
553
00:37:33.719 --> 00:37:36.840
baby wants to catch the moon. She is so funny.
554
00:37:37.199 --> 00:37:42.119
She calls Ganesh Ganush Ganesh, a common name in India,
555
00:37:42.159 --> 00:37:45.760
also that of the god with the elphint's head. Mother,
556
00:37:46.239 --> 00:37:52.280
your baby is silly. She is so absurdly childish, the
557
00:37:52.320 --> 00:37:56.719
little big man. I am small because I am a
558
00:37:56.719 --> 00:37:59.559
little child. I shall be big when I am as
559
00:37:59.639 --> 00:38:03.159
old as my father is. My teacher will come and
560
00:38:03.239 --> 00:38:06.599
say it is late. Bring your slate and your books.
561
00:38:07.159 --> 00:38:09.760
I shall tell him, do you not know I am
562
00:38:09.800 --> 00:38:12.880
as big as father, and I must not have lessons
563
00:38:12.920 --> 00:38:17.119
any more. My master will wonder and say he can
564
00:38:17.199 --> 00:38:20.000
leave his books if he likes, for he has grown up.
565
00:38:21.400 --> 00:38:24.280
I shall dress myself and walk to the fair where
566
00:38:24.320 --> 00:38:28.159
the crowd is thick. My uncle will come rushing up
567
00:38:28.199 --> 00:38:31.079
to me and say he will get lost, my boy,
568
00:38:31.400 --> 00:38:36.360
let me carry you. I shall answer, can't you see? Uncle?
569
00:38:36.840 --> 00:38:39.719
I am as big as father. I must go to
570
00:38:39.760 --> 00:38:45.119
the fair alone. Uncle will say, yes, he can go
571
00:38:45.199 --> 00:38:49.400
wherever he likes, for he is grown up. Mother will
572
00:38:49.440 --> 00:38:51.719
come from her bath when I am giving money to
573
00:38:51.800 --> 00:38:54.239
my nurse, for I shall know how to open the
574
00:38:54.239 --> 00:38:58.800
box with my key. Mother will say, what are you about,
575
00:38:58.920 --> 00:39:03.400
naughty child? I shall tell her, mother, don't you know
576
00:39:04.079 --> 00:39:06.679
I am as big as father, and I must give
577
00:39:06.719 --> 00:39:11.360
silver to my nurse. Mother will say to herself he
578
00:39:11.400 --> 00:39:13.679
can give money to whom he likes, for he has
579
00:39:13.760 --> 00:39:18.159
grown up. In the holiday time in October, Father will
580
00:39:18.159 --> 00:39:21.159
come home, and, thinking that I am still a baby,
581
00:39:21.559 --> 00:39:24.480
will bring for me from the town little shoes and
582
00:39:24.599 --> 00:39:30.480
small silken frocks. I shall say, Father, give them to
583
00:39:30.559 --> 00:39:33.239
my dather, for I am as big as you are.
584
00:39:34.559 --> 00:39:38.280
Father will think and say he can buy his own
585
00:39:38.280 --> 00:39:44.920
clothes if he likes, for he has grown up. Twelve o'clock, Mother,
586
00:39:45.480 --> 00:39:48.320
I do want to leave off my lessons. Now I
587
00:39:48.360 --> 00:39:51.760
have been at my book all the morning. You say
588
00:39:51.800 --> 00:39:55.079
it is only twelve o'clock. Suppose it isn't any later.
589
00:39:55.719 --> 00:39:58.039
Can't you ever think it is afternoon when it is
590
00:39:58.079 --> 00:40:01.920
only twelve o'clock. I can easily imagine now that the
591
00:40:02.000 --> 00:40:05.280
sun has reached the edge of that rice field, and
592
00:40:05.360 --> 00:40:09.119
the old fisherwoman is gathering herbs for her supper by
593
00:40:09.119 --> 00:40:12.880
the side of the pond. I can just shut my
594
00:40:12.960 --> 00:40:16.280
eyes and think that the shadows are growing darker under
595
00:40:16.320 --> 00:40:19.559
the mother tree, and the water in the pond looks
596
00:40:19.559 --> 00:40:23.840
shiny black. If twelve o'clock can come in the night,
597
00:40:24.360 --> 00:40:29.800
why can't the night come when it is twelve o'clock? Authorship?
598
00:40:31.280 --> 00:40:33.920
You say that father writes a lot of books, But
599
00:40:34.039 --> 00:40:37.639
what he writes I don't understand. He was reading to
600
00:40:37.679 --> 00:40:40.480
you all the evening. But could you really make out
601
00:40:40.519 --> 00:40:44.719
what he meant? What nice stories? Mother? You can tell us?
602
00:40:45.320 --> 00:40:49.320
Why can't father write like that? I wonder did he
603
00:40:49.440 --> 00:40:52.679
never hear from his own mother stories of giants and
604
00:40:52.840 --> 00:40:58.360
fairies and princesses? Has he forgotten them all? Often? When
605
00:40:58.360 --> 00:41:00.519
he gets late for his bath, you have to go
606
00:41:00.559 --> 00:41:04.480
and call him a hundred times. You wait and keep
607
00:41:04.519 --> 00:41:07.480
his dishes warm for him, But he goes on writing
608
00:41:07.559 --> 00:41:13.360
and forgets. Father always plays at making books. If ever
609
00:41:13.440 --> 00:41:16.079
I go to play in father's room, you come and
610
00:41:16.119 --> 00:41:19.519
call me, what a naughty child? If I make the
611
00:41:19.559 --> 00:41:22.960
slightest noise, you say, don't you see that Father's at
612
00:41:22.960 --> 00:41:27.719
his work? What's the fun of always writing and writing?
613
00:41:29.239 --> 00:41:32.400
When I take up father's pen or pencil and write
614
00:41:32.440 --> 00:41:37.079
upon his book just as he does abcd e f
615
00:41:37.280 --> 00:41:41.280
g h I. Why do you get cross with me? Then? Mother?
616
00:41:42.239 --> 00:41:46.000
You never say a word when father writes. When my
617
00:41:46.079 --> 00:41:50.000
father wastes such heaps of paper, Mother, you don't seem
618
00:41:50.000 --> 00:41:53.039
to mind at all. But if I take only one
619
00:41:53.079 --> 00:41:56.239
sheet to make a boat with you, say, child, how
620
00:41:56.280 --> 00:42:00.719
troublesome you are? What do you think of father's spoiling
621
00:42:00.800 --> 00:42:04.519
sheets and sheets of paper with black marks all over
622
00:42:04.639 --> 00:42:10.840
on both sides? The wicked postman? Why do you sit
623
00:42:10.880 --> 00:42:14.840
there on the floor so quiet and silent? Tell me, mother, dear,
624
00:42:15.920 --> 00:42:19.000
the rain is coming in through the open window, making
625
00:42:19.079 --> 00:42:22.679
you all wet, and you don't mind it. Do you
626
00:42:22.760 --> 00:42:26.199
hear the gong striking? Four? It is time for my
627
00:42:26.280 --> 00:42:30.559
brother to come home from school. What has happened to
628
00:42:30.559 --> 00:42:33.599
you that you look so strange? Haven't you got a
629
00:42:33.679 --> 00:42:37.039
letter from father? To day? I saw the postman bringing
630
00:42:37.159 --> 00:42:39.920
letters in his bag for almost everybody in the town.
631
00:42:40.880 --> 00:42:45.199
Only Father's letters he keeps to read himself. I am
632
00:42:45.239 --> 00:42:48.599
sure the postman is a wicked man, but don't be
633
00:42:48.760 --> 00:42:53.000
unhappy about that. Mother, Dear, tomorrow is market day in
634
00:42:53.079 --> 00:42:56.239
the next village. You ask your maid to buy some
635
00:42:56.280 --> 00:43:01.519
pens and papers. I myself will write all Father's letters.
636
00:43:02.119 --> 00:43:05.719
You will not find a single mistake. I shall write
637
00:43:05.760 --> 00:43:10.039
from a write up to k But Mother, why do
638
00:43:10.079 --> 00:43:13.599
you smile? You don't believe that I can write as
639
00:43:13.679 --> 00:43:17.639
nicely as Father does. But I shall rule my paper
640
00:43:17.800 --> 00:43:22.880
carefully and write all the letters beautifully. Big. When I
641
00:43:22.880 --> 00:43:25.519
finish my writing, do you think I shall be so
642
00:43:25.679 --> 00:43:29.280
foolish as father and drop it into the horrid postman's bag.
643
00:43:30.440 --> 00:43:33.840
I shall bring it to you myself without waiting, and
644
00:43:34.039 --> 00:43:38.239
letter by letter help you to read my writing. I
645
00:43:38.280 --> 00:43:40.440
know the postman does not like to give you the
646
00:43:40.480 --> 00:43:52.800
really nice letters. End of chapter six, Chapter seven of
647
00:43:52.920 --> 00:43:57.280
The Crescent Moon by Rebindar and Natigo. This LibriVox recording
648
00:43:57.400 --> 00:44:01.679
is in the public domain. Thirty one to thirty five
649
00:44:03.800 --> 00:44:09.320
the hero mother. Let us imagine we are traveling and
650
00:44:09.480 --> 00:44:13.599
passing through a strange and dangerous country. You are riding
651
00:44:13.679 --> 00:44:16.239
in a palanquin, and I am trotting by you on
652
00:44:16.280 --> 00:44:20.000
a red horse. It is evening, and the sun goes down.
653
00:44:20.760 --> 00:44:24.840
The waste of Jiuravighi lies wan and gray before us.
654
00:44:25.760 --> 00:44:30.039
The land is desolate and barren. You are frightened and
655
00:44:30.119 --> 00:44:33.920
thinking I know not where we have come to. I
656
00:44:33.960 --> 00:44:38.199
say to you, mother, do not be afraid. The meadow
657
00:44:38.280 --> 00:44:42.079
is prickly with spiky grass, and through it runs in narrow,
658
00:44:42.079 --> 00:44:45.719
broken paths. There are no cattle to be seen in
659
00:44:45.800 --> 00:44:50.000
the wide field. They have gone to their village stalls.
660
00:44:50.559 --> 00:44:53.360
It grows dark and dim on the land and sky,
661
00:44:54.079 --> 00:44:58.039
and we cannot tell where we are going. Suddenly you
662
00:44:58.119 --> 00:45:01.599
call me and ask me in a whisper, what light
663
00:45:01.719 --> 00:45:06.599
is that near the bank. Just then there bursts out
664
00:45:06.639 --> 00:45:10.920
a fearful yell, and figures come running towards us. You
665
00:45:11.000 --> 00:45:13.800
sit crouched in your palanquin and repeat the names of
666
00:45:13.840 --> 00:45:19.199
the gods in prayer. The bearers, shaking in terror, hide
667
00:45:19.239 --> 00:45:23.239
themselves in the thorny bush. I shout to you, don't
668
00:45:23.239 --> 00:45:27.320
be afraid, mother. I am here with long sticks in
669
00:45:27.400 --> 00:45:31.480
their hands and hair all wild about their heads. They
670
00:45:31.519 --> 00:45:36.079
come nearer and nearer. I shout, have a care you villains.
671
00:45:36.480 --> 00:45:40.280
One step more and you are dead men. They give
672
00:45:40.320 --> 00:45:44.159
another terrible yell and rush forward. You clutch my hand
673
00:45:44.239 --> 00:45:48.320
and say, dear boy, for Heaven's sake, keep away from them,
674
00:45:49.480 --> 00:45:53.719
I say, mother, just you watch me. Then I spur
675
00:45:53.880 --> 00:45:56.840
my horse for a wild gallop, and my sword and
676
00:45:56.960 --> 00:46:02.119
buckler clash against each other. The fight becomes so fearful, mother,
677
00:46:02.599 --> 00:46:04.960
that it would give you a cold shudder? Could you
678
00:46:05.039 --> 00:46:09.239
see it from your palanquin? Many of them fly, and
679
00:46:09.360 --> 00:46:12.920
a great number are cut to pieces. I know you
680
00:46:12.960 --> 00:46:16.599
are thinking, sitting all by yourself, that your boy must
681
00:46:16.679 --> 00:46:19.760
be dead by this time. But I come to you,
682
00:46:19.920 --> 00:46:24.199
all stained with blood, and say, mother, the fight is over.
683
00:46:24.320 --> 00:46:28.039
Now you come out and kiss me, pressing me to
684
00:46:28.119 --> 00:46:31.360
your heart, And you say to yourself, I don't know
685
00:46:31.480 --> 00:46:33.840
what I should do. If I hadn't my boy to
686
00:46:34.039 --> 00:46:38.760
escort me. A thousand useless things happened day after day,
687
00:46:39.239 --> 00:46:41.719
And why couldn't such a thing come true? By chance?
688
00:46:42.480 --> 00:46:45.440
It would be like a story in a book. My
689
00:46:45.519 --> 00:46:49.400
brother would say, is it possible? I always thought he
690
00:46:49.480 --> 00:46:53.880
was so delicate. Our village people would all say, in amazement,
691
00:46:54.679 --> 00:46:56.679
was it not lucky that the boy was with his
692
00:46:56.760 --> 00:47:03.280
mother the end? It is time for me to go, mother,
693
00:47:04.039 --> 00:47:07.760
I am going. When in the paling darkness of the
694
00:47:07.840 --> 00:47:11.239
lonely dawn, you stretch out your arms for your baby
695
00:47:11.280 --> 00:47:15.960
in the bed, I shall say, baby is not there, Mother,
696
00:47:16.440 --> 00:47:20.159
I am going. I shall become a delicate draft of
697
00:47:20.280 --> 00:47:23.679
air and caress you, and I shall be ripples in
698
00:47:23.719 --> 00:47:27.039
the water when you bathe, and kiss you, and kiss
699
00:47:27.079 --> 00:47:30.960
you again. In the gusty night, when the rain patters
700
00:47:31.000 --> 00:47:33.840
on the leaves, you will hear my whisper in your bed,
701
00:47:34.360 --> 00:47:37.119
and my laughter will flash with the lightning through the
702
00:47:37.159 --> 00:47:41.960
open window into your room. If you lie awake thinking
703
00:47:42.000 --> 00:47:45.280
of your baby till late into the night, I shall
704
00:47:45.280 --> 00:47:49.920
sing to you from the stars. Sleep, mother, sleep on
705
00:47:50.000 --> 00:47:53.880
the straying moonbeams. I shall steal over your bed and
706
00:47:54.000 --> 00:47:58.119
lie upon your bosom. While you sleep. I shall become
707
00:47:58.119 --> 00:48:01.400
a dream, and through the little opening of your eyelids,
708
00:48:01.880 --> 00:48:05.599
I shall slip into the depths of your sleep. And
709
00:48:05.639 --> 00:48:09.119
when you wake up and look round, startled like a
710
00:48:09.159 --> 00:48:14.599
twinkling firefly, I shall flit out into the darkness. When
711
00:48:14.840 --> 00:48:18.800
on the great festival of Pooja, the neighbor's children come
712
00:48:18.880 --> 00:48:21.800
and play about the house, I shall melt into the
713
00:48:21.880 --> 00:48:25.280
music of the flute and throb in your heart all day.
714
00:48:26.320 --> 00:48:29.760
Dear Auntie will come with Pooja presents and will ask
715
00:48:30.239 --> 00:48:34.559
where is our baby's sister? Mother. You will tell her softly.
716
00:48:35.599 --> 00:48:38.639
He is in the pupils of my eyes. He is
717
00:48:38.679 --> 00:48:45.239
in my body and in my soul. The recall. The
718
00:48:45.320 --> 00:48:48.079
night was dark when she went away, and they slept.
719
00:48:49.199 --> 00:48:51.719
The night is dark now, and I call for her.
720
00:48:52.400 --> 00:48:55.840
Come back, my darling. The world is asleep, and no
721
00:48:55.920 --> 00:48:58.920
one would know if you came for a moment. While
722
00:48:58.960 --> 00:49:03.000
stars are gazing at stars. She went away when the
723
00:49:03.039 --> 00:49:06.800
trees were in bud and the spring was young. Now
724
00:49:06.840 --> 00:49:10.599
the flowers are in high bloom, and I call come back,
725
00:49:10.639 --> 00:49:15.239
my darling. The children gather and scatter flowers in reckless spot,
726
00:49:16.119 --> 00:49:18.599
and if you come and take one little blossom, no
727
00:49:18.679 --> 00:49:22.360
one will miss it. Those that used to play are
728
00:49:22.400 --> 00:49:27.400
playing still, So spentthrift is life. I listen to their
729
00:49:27.480 --> 00:49:31.440
chatter and call, come back, my darling. For Mother's heart
730
00:49:31.480 --> 00:49:34.039
is full to the brim with love. And if you
731
00:49:34.159 --> 00:49:37.199
come to snatch only one little kiss from her, no
732
00:49:37.280 --> 00:49:44.760
one will grudge it. The first jasmines, Ah, these jasmines,
733
00:49:45.159 --> 00:49:49.400
these white jasmines. I seem to remember the first day
734
00:49:49.760 --> 00:49:54.000
when I filled my hands with these jasmines, these white jasmines.
735
00:49:54.920 --> 00:49:58.760
I have loved the sunlight, the sky and the green earths.
736
00:49:59.519 --> 00:50:02.599
I have the liquid murmur of the river. Through the
737
00:50:02.719 --> 00:50:07.159
darkness of midnight. Autumn sunsets have come to me at
738
00:50:07.199 --> 00:50:10.119
the bend of a road, in the lonely waste, like
739
00:50:10.159 --> 00:50:15.039
a bride raising her veil to accept her lover. Yet
740
00:50:15.159 --> 00:50:18.559
my memory is still sweet with the first white jasmines
741
00:50:18.880 --> 00:50:21.199
that I held in my hand when I was a child.
742
00:50:22.719 --> 00:50:25.440
Many a glad day has come in my life, and
743
00:50:25.559 --> 00:50:30.159
I have laughed with merry makers on festival nights, on
744
00:50:30.320 --> 00:50:34.119
gray mornings of rain. I have crooned many an idle song.
745
00:50:35.199 --> 00:50:38.960
I have worn round my neck the evening wreath of Bakula's,
746
00:50:39.199 --> 00:50:42.760
woven by the hand of love. Yet my heart is
747
00:50:42.800 --> 00:50:46.599
sweet with the memory of the first fresh chasmines that
748
00:50:46.719 --> 00:50:53.599
filled my hands when I was a child. The Banyan tree, Oh,
749
00:50:53.840 --> 00:50:57.039
you shaggy headed banyan tree, standing on the bank of
750
00:50:57.079 --> 00:51:00.960
the pond. Have you forgotten the little child like the
751
00:51:01.000 --> 00:51:03.679
birds that have nested in your branches and left you?
752
00:51:04.599 --> 00:51:07.199
Do you not remember how he sat at the window
753
00:51:07.519 --> 00:51:11.440
and wondered at the tangle of your roots that plunged underground.
754
00:51:12.840 --> 00:51:15.599
The women would come to fill their jars in the pond,
755
00:51:16.199 --> 00:51:19.360
and your huge black shadow would wriggle on the water
756
00:51:20.000 --> 00:51:24.599
like sleep, struggling to wake up. Sunlight danced on the
757
00:51:24.679 --> 00:51:31.199
ripples like restless, tiny shuttles, weaving golden tapestry. Two ducks
758
00:51:31.280 --> 00:51:34.960
swam by the weedy margin, above their shadows, and the
759
00:51:35.079 --> 00:51:39.360
child would sit still and think. He longed to be
760
00:51:39.480 --> 00:51:43.519
the wind and blow through your rustling branches, To be
761
00:51:43.599 --> 00:51:46.519
your shadow and lengthen with the day on the water,
762
00:51:47.360 --> 00:51:50.480
To be a bird and perch on your topmost twig,
763
00:51:51.360 --> 00:51:55.679
and to float like those ducks among the weeds and shadows.
764
00:51:57.960 --> 00:52:07.800
End of chapter seven, Chapter eight of The Crescent Moon
765
00:52:07.960 --> 00:52:12.280
by Rabindruna Tegor. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain.
766
00:52:13.079 --> 00:52:19.039
Recording by Anusha a year Mumbai Poems thirty six to
767
00:52:19.239 --> 00:52:27.079
forty benediction. Bless this little heart, this white soul that
768
00:52:27.159 --> 00:52:30.960
has won the kiss of heaven for our earth. He
769
00:52:31.079 --> 00:52:34.119
loves the light of the sun. He loves the sight
770
00:52:34.280 --> 00:52:38.519
of his mother's face. He has not learned to despise
771
00:52:38.719 --> 00:52:43.519
the dust and to hanker after gold. Clasp him to
772
00:52:43.559 --> 00:52:46.800
your heart and bless him. He has come into this
773
00:52:47.039 --> 00:52:51.480
land of a hundred cross roads. I know not how
774
00:52:51.519 --> 00:52:54.280
he chose you from the crowd came to your door
775
00:52:54.800 --> 00:52:58.400
and grasped your hand to ask his way. He will
776
00:52:58.440 --> 00:53:02.599
follow you, laughing, talking, and not a doubt in his heart.
777
00:53:04.119 --> 00:53:09.280
Keep his trust, lead him straight and bless him. Lay
778
00:53:09.320 --> 00:53:12.119
your hand on his head, and pray that though the
779
00:53:12.159 --> 00:53:16.360
waves underneath grow threatening, yet the breath from above may
780
00:53:16.440 --> 00:53:19.800
come and fill his sails and waft him to the
781
00:53:19.840 --> 00:53:24.880
heaven of peace. Forget him not in your hurry. Let
782
00:53:24.960 --> 00:53:29.599
him come to your heart, and bless him the gift.
783
00:53:31.719 --> 00:53:34.159
I want to give you something, my child, For we
784
00:53:34.199 --> 00:53:37.880
are drifting in the stream of the world. Our lives
785
00:53:37.920 --> 00:53:42.199
will be carried apart, and our love forgotten. But I
786
00:53:42.199 --> 00:53:44.920
am not so foolish as to hope that I could
787
00:53:44.920 --> 00:53:48.880
buy your heart with my gifts. Young, is your life,
788
00:53:49.360 --> 00:53:53.199
your path long? And you drink the love we bring
789
00:53:53.280 --> 00:53:57.079
you at one draft, and turn and run away from us.
790
00:53:57.679 --> 00:54:01.280
You have your play and your playmates. What harm is
791
00:54:01.360 --> 00:54:04.239
there if you have no time or thought for us?
792
00:54:05.199 --> 00:54:09.079
We indeed have leisure enough in old age to count
793
00:54:09.199 --> 00:54:12.519
the days that are past, to cherish in our hearts
794
00:54:12.639 --> 00:54:16.840
what our hands have lost. For ever. The river runs
795
00:54:16.880 --> 00:54:21.519
swift with a song, breaking through all barriers, But the
796
00:54:21.639 --> 00:54:26.480
mountain stays and remembers, and follows her with his love.
797
00:54:28.840 --> 00:54:33.280
My song, this song of mine, will wind its music
798
00:54:33.360 --> 00:54:37.039
around you, my child, like the fond arms of love.
799
00:54:38.039 --> 00:54:40.519
This song of mine will touch your forehead like a
800
00:54:40.599 --> 00:54:44.360
kiss of blessing. When you are alone. It will sit
801
00:54:44.440 --> 00:54:47.880
by your side and whisper in your ear. When you
802
00:54:47.920 --> 00:54:51.760
are in the crowd, it will fence you about with aloofness.
803
00:54:52.519 --> 00:54:54.519
My song will be like a pair of wings to
804
00:54:54.559 --> 00:54:58.079
your dreams. It will transport your heart to the verge
805
00:54:58.159 --> 00:55:02.480
of the unknown. It will be like the faithful star overhead.
806
00:55:02.920 --> 00:55:07.039
When dark night is over your road, my song will
807
00:55:07.119 --> 00:55:10.480
sit in the pupils of your eyes and will carry
808
00:55:10.519 --> 00:55:14.079
your sight into the heart of things. And when my
809
00:55:14.239 --> 00:55:18.679
voice is silent in death, my song will speak in
810
00:55:18.760 --> 00:55:26.159
your living heart, the child Angel. They clamor and fight,
811
00:55:26.519 --> 00:55:30.599
They doubt and despair. They know no end to their wranglings.
812
00:55:31.599 --> 00:55:34.639
Let your life come amongst them like a flame of light,
813
00:55:34.960 --> 00:55:40.000
my child, unflickering and pure, and delight them into silence.
814
00:55:41.079 --> 00:55:44.400
They are cruel in their greed and their envy. Their
815
00:55:44.400 --> 00:55:49.079
words are like hidden knives thirsting for blood. Go and
816
00:55:49.159 --> 00:55:52.880
stand amidst their scowling hearts, My child, and let your
817
00:55:52.960 --> 00:55:56.480
gentle eyes fall upon them, like the forgiving peace of
818
00:55:56.559 --> 00:56:00.639
the evening over the strife of the day. Let them
819
00:56:00.639 --> 00:56:03.719
see your face, my child, and thus know the meaning
820
00:56:03.880 --> 00:56:07.719
of all things. Let them love you, and thus love
821
00:56:07.800 --> 00:56:11.199
each other. Come and take your seat in the bosom
822
00:56:11.280 --> 00:56:16.280
of the limitless, my child. At sunrise, open and raise
823
00:56:16.320 --> 00:56:20.440
your heart like a blossoming flower. And at sunset bend
824
00:56:20.480 --> 00:56:24.440
your head, and in silence complete the worship of the day.
825
00:56:26.519 --> 00:56:32.000
The last bargain, Come and hire me, I cried, While
826
00:56:32.000 --> 00:56:35.039
in the morning I was walking on the stone paved road,
827
00:56:36.519 --> 00:56:40.880
sword in hand. The king came in his chariot. He
828
00:56:40.880 --> 00:56:43.719
held my hand and said, I will hire you with
829
00:56:43.840 --> 00:56:48.039
my power. But his power counted for naught, and he
830
00:56:48.159 --> 00:56:51.679
went away in his chariot. In the heat of the
831
00:56:51.719 --> 00:56:55.960
mid day, the houses stood with shut doors. I wandered
832
00:56:56.000 --> 00:56:59.760
along the crooked lane. An old man came out with
833
00:56:59.800 --> 00:57:04.440
his bag of gold. He pondered and said, I will
834
00:57:04.519 --> 00:57:08.079
hire you with my money. He weighed his coins one
835
00:57:08.079 --> 00:57:13.440
by one, but I turned away. It was evening. The
836
00:57:13.480 --> 00:57:17.199
garden hedge was all a flower. The fair maid came
837
00:57:17.239 --> 00:57:20.199
out and said, I will hire you with a smile.
838
00:57:21.360 --> 00:57:25.079
Her smile paled and melted into tears, and she went
839
00:57:25.159 --> 00:57:29.800
back alone into the dark. The sun glistened on the sand,
840
00:57:30.159 --> 00:57:34.800
and the sea waves broke waywardly. A child sat playing
841
00:57:34.840 --> 00:57:38.880
with shells. He raised his head and seemed to know me,
842
00:57:39.519 --> 00:57:44.840
and said, I hire you with nothing. From thenceforward, that
843
00:57:45.039 --> 00:57:48.480
bargain struck in child's play made me a free man.
844
00:57:50.960 --> 00:57:56.320
End of Chapter eight recording by Anusha a year Mumbai.
845
00:57:57.639 --> 00:58:00.679
End of the Crescent Moon by rabindr. Not to go