Tuesday, October 31, 2017

Vocation - Poem By Rabindranath Tagore


- By Rabindranath Tagore

When the gong sounds ten in the morning and
I walk to our school by our lane,
Everyday I meet the hawker crying, "Bangles, crystal bangles!"

There is nothing to hurry him on, there is no road he must take,
No place he must go to, no time when he must come home.

I wish I were a hawker, spending my day in the road, crying,
"Bangles, crystal bangles!"

When at four in the afternoon
I come back from school, I can see through the gate of
That house the gardener digging the ground.

He does what he likes with his spade, he soils his clothes with dust,
Nobody takes him to ask if he gets baked in the Sun or gets wet.

I wish I were a gardener digging away at the garden
With nobody to stop me from digging.

Just as it gets dark in the evening and my mother sends me to bed,
I can see the watchman walking up and down.

The lane is dark and lonely, and the street-lamp stands like a giant
With one red eye in its head.

The watchman swings his lanterns and walks with his shadow at his side,
and never once goes to bed in his life.

I wish I were a watchman walking on the street all night,
Chasing the shadows with my lantern.

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