It's a cool and rainy day in Tokyo, just perfect for me to send you this guest poem submitted by Ron Heard :
(Poem #367) Krishnakali
In the village they call her the dark girl but to me she is the flower Krishnakali On a cloudy day in a field I saw the dark girl's dark gazelle-eyes. She had no covering on her head, her loose hair had fallen on her back. Dark? However dark she be, I have seen her dark gazelleeyes. Two black cows were lowing, as it grew dark under the heavy clouds. So with anxious, hurried steps, the dark girl came from her hut. Raising her eyebrows toward the sky, she listened a moment to the clouds' rumble. Dark? However dark she be, I have seen her dark gazelle-eyes. A gust of the east wind rippled the rice plants. I was standing by a ridge, alone in the field. Whether or not she looked at me Is known only to us two. Dark? However dark she be, I have seen her dark gazelle-eyes. This how the Kohldark cloud rises in the northeast in Jaistha; the soft dark shadow descends on the Tamal grove in Asharh; and sudden delight floods the heart in the night of Sravan. Dark? However dark she be, I have seen her dark gazelle-eyes. To me she is the flower Krishnakali, whatever she may be called by others. In a field in Maynapara village I saw the dark girl's dark gazelle-eyes. She did not cover her head, not having the time to feel embarrassed. Dark? However dark she be, I have seen her dark gazelle-eyes.
Translated by J. C. Ghosh I think my favourite love poem is Krishnakali, by Tagore. I love the dreaminess emphasised by repetition -- the sort of repetition that is natural in an infatuation. At the same time I love the clear-eyed clarity of the particulars. Tagore has captured the self and the woman, the mood and the reality. (I heard the poem read over the radio, and found it on the web. I haven't been able to find it in a printed version, so I hope the transcription is correct) Ron Heard