Khaila Bhola (Absent-minded Play) Poem by Tagore Translation By Ranu

“Yes, there he sat, on the back of the winged ...

“Yes, there he sat, on the back of the winged horse!” (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Do you think my mind is  occupied in play?

It is not true at all Mom,listen.

when I woke up early  the clouds were gone,

Sun , peeking through the trees.

Pooja music was coming from a distance,

three birds fighting on the roof.

toys scattered in front   what will I play,

I was thinking.

Spent the whole day undecided___

Sat holding the railing deep in thought.

I have  days of absent-mindedness Mom__

times when I have a queer feeling.

I see  the terrace

a little girl putting  a purple sari in the sun.

Quietly I watch, is it the wilderness__

I guess yonder is the king’s palace.

If I had  a winged-horse,

I would go immediately.

flying along the river bank

I would correct my way under a tree.

At times I see you with Dad’s letter

what do you think so quietly.

You look someone from an unknown land,

as if you are my mother from far away.

coming close I touch you__ it seems it’s my lost mother,

under the oak tree mother of flute .

I forget my play, I think

where is your home on which shore of the ocean!

I wish to go back to that strange island

you and me sailing on the sailboat!

13 thoughts on “Khaila Bhola (Absent-minded Play) Poem by Tagore Translation By Ranu

  1. Dear Ranu,

    Thank you for sharing this.

    I very much like how Tagore conveys this procession of images and observations.

    All good wishes,

    robert

  2. Thank you for sharing this with us dearest Ranu! His work is truly amazing. I have to agree with Robert, I absolutely love how he ”conveys this procession of images and observations”. It depicts a story of the aware and the unaware: those who fail to perceive the now as they are captivated by yesterday’s painful memories and tomorrow’s fears.

    Thank you!
    Best wishes,
    Shaidi

  3. The absent mindedness is actually a blessing, that releases the pain and works as analgesic. In the beautiful setting here Tagore amazes us once again with his interplay of images back and forth. He is the master of the craft, one who has a masterful camera in his hand taking long and short shots using various lens and filters, and the shutter speed of his click bring the pictures that are astonishing lively, colorful and classy.

    Your translations of these very stiff and difficult poems are amazing, this shows your resilience and merit.

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