XI
IT decks me only to mock me, this jewelled chain of mine.
It bruises me when on my neck, it strangles me when I struggle to tear it off.
It grips my throat, it chokes my singing.
Could I but offer it to your hand, my Lord, I would be saved.
Take it from me, and in exchange bind me to you with a garland, for I am
ashamed to stand before you with this jewelled chain on my neck.
IT decks me only to mock me, this jewelled chain of mine.
It bruises me when on my neck, it strangles me when I struggle to tear it off.
It grips my throat, it chokes my singing.
Could I but offer it to your hand, my Lord, I would be saved.
Take it from me, and in exchange bind me to you with a garland, for I am
ashamed to stand before you with this jewelled chain on my neck.
From: Fruit-Gathering
By Rabindranath Tagore
No comments:
Post a Comment