Poem 7: Adornments

The original

My song has put off her adornments. She has no pride of dress and decoration. Ornaments would mar our union; they would come between thee and me; their jingling would drown thy whispers.

My poet’s vanity dies in shame before thy sight. O master poet, I have sat down at thy feet. Only let me make my life simple and straight, like a flute of reed for thee to fill with music.

The revised

My song takes off her adornments.

Ornaments would mar our union;

they would come between you and me;

their jingling would drown your whispers.

My poet’s vanity dies in shame before you.

O master poet, I have sat down at your feet.

Only let me make my life simple and straight,

like a flute of reed for you to fill with music.

Notes

The first and second “movements” are so different from each other. The first uses the imagery of lovers and love-making (don’t even pretend that it’s not). The second is about artistry and divinity. I am called to mind of the religious idea that “creation” is for gods alone, and that humankind should not be so vain as to try to play god. So being an “artist” is fraught is the danger of hubris. This narrator is quite the good little child–or the reformed little child–willing to be an instrument in the hands of the divine. But the narrator of the first movement is an equal partner with her lover. I suppose it would have simply been too shocking for Tagore to write everything in the voice of a lover. (But isn’t that what the Mirabai/Krishna relationship is? So there is precedent.)

I really can’t do this properly without reading the Bangla original. Argh.