Two Songs of Tagore – V
Translator’s note:
I have proffered in this issue of Two Songs of Tagore a fresh new translation of the song “Jɑːḍāye āche bādhā chāḍāye jete chāi” (Fetters bind me, and I wish to break free), despite the fact that there already exists an English translation of it done by the poet himself. The reasons for undertaking this seemingly impudent venture are twofold: one, Tagore’s translation of the song, available as the 28th entry in his Nobel-winning volume Gitanjali: Song Offerings, reads more like prose than verse, and the sublime lyricality of the original Bangla song is thus greatly diluted in it; and two, there are reasons to believe that Tagore’s translation was primarily meant for an English audience, or, at any rate, for an European/American audience when it was first published; and, as a result, his English phrasing in that translation has consciously moved away from certain imageries and expressions which are essentially Indic and therefore difficult for the understanding of a Western reader. I felt that this song (for that is what this lyric was, it was meant to be sung and not just be read or recited as a poem) was too important to be left with only the Gitanjali: Song Offerings version, lest those Indians (and Easterners in general) who do not read Bangla miss out on the profound devotion, the penetrating self-critique, and the acute crisis of the Bhakta that Tagore has been able to capture in his original lyric. Even such Westerners as have become familiar with the symbols, tropes, images, and figures of speech of the Indic traditions, may find this new translation useful in that it might reveal to them certain new aspects of the song. I have, in all humility, attempted here to retain in English verses some of that fine lyricism and Spirit of Bhakti that the original Bangla song embodies. It is to convey to a larger audience the intensity and divine beauty of the poet’s work, and not to feign superiority of my own skills, that I translate these songs of Tagore; and I hope that these frail attempts will be received by the readers in that same spirit.
Bɑːlo bhāi dhonno hori
(Say, O Brother! Praised be Hari!)
He keeps me, so I’m alive,
He slays me, and I die –
Say, O Brother: Praised be Hari!
Praised be Hari in the world’s theatre,
Praised be Hari in the state’s affair,
Praised be Hari in the burning ghat,
Praised be Hari, praised be Hari!
When He maddens me in His ecstasy,
Praised be Hari, praised be Hari!
When He makes me cry in agony,
Praised be Hari, praised be Hari!
In the arms and bosoms of dear ones,
With a smile, say: Praised be Hari;
When all the joy of home turns to ashes,
Say: praised be Hari, praised be Hari!
Smilingly when He Himself draws nearer –
Praised be Hari, praised be Hari!
One land to another, when He makes me wander,
Praised be Hari, praised be Hari!
On the shores ‘n in the seas praised be Hari,
In the flowers and in the fruits praised be Hari,
Gracing the petals of my heart’s lotus
With the Glow of His Feet, praised be Hari!
Jɑːḍāye āche bādhā chāḍāye jete chāi
(Fetters bind me, and I wish to break free)
Fetters bind me, and I wish to break free –
But when I try, a pain rings out sharply.
I reach out to Thee seeking Mukti,
But shame kills me when I petition Thee.
This I know, that in this life of mine
Thou art most beneficial,
And that there’s no wealth in the world
That can ever be Thy equal,
Yet the odds and ends that crowd my room –
I cannot discard those at all.
Shrouding Thou, dust gathers in my heart,
And in its wake, it brings a million deaths;
I hate them with all my being, and yet
‘Tis these very things that my heart covets.
There’s so much that’s due, so much is feigned,
So many failures, and so many things veiled;
That whenever I come seeking my own good,
Fear creeps into my mind, and I am paled.
