Poem: "When I have Fears" by John Keats

When I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain
Before high piled books, in charactery,
Hold like rich garners the full ripen'd grain;
When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face,
Huge cloudy symbols of high romance,
And think I may never live to trace
Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,
That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the fairy power
Of unreflecting love; then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think
Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.

                                                                 John Keats (1795-1821)

Playthings

Child, how happy you are sitting in the dust, playing with a broken twig all the morning!
I smile at your play with that little bit of a broken twig.
I am busy with my accounts, adding up figures by the hour.
Perhaps you glance at me and think, "What a stupid game to spoil your morning with!"
Child, I have forgotten the art of being absorbed in sticks and mud-pies.
I seek out costly playthings, and gather lumps of gold and silver.
With whatever you find you create your glad games.
I spend both my time and my strength over things I can never obtain.
In my frail canoe I struggle to cross the sea of desire, and forget that I too am playing a game.


-A poem from the collection 'Crescent Moon' by Rabindranath Tagore 

Happy Janmashtami

जसोदा हरि पालनैं झुलावै।
हलरावै दुलरावै मल्हावै जोइ सोइ कछु गावै॥
मेरे लाल को आउ निंदरिया काहें न आनि सुवावै।
तू काहै नहिं बेगहिं आवै तोकौं कान्ह बुलावै॥
कबहुं पलक हरि मूंदि लेत हैं कबहुं अधर फरकावैं।
सोवत जानि मौन ह्वै कै रहि करि करि सैन बतावै॥
इहि अंतर अकुलाइ उठे हरि जसुमति मधुरैं गावै।
जो सुख सूर अमर मुनि दुरलभ सो नंद भामिनि पावै॥
Remembering Soordas on this Janmashtami....

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