Oh those many years ago when I was in high school I was given a smallish paperback book of poetry. It was a simple book with a short verse on each page accompanied by an appropriate image; some photographs, some drawings. I was quite in love with this little book (we were all such romantics back then) and carried it with me each day. One day I loaned the book to a friend, who loaned it to a friend, who loaned it to a friend. A week or so later the book made it's way back to me, somewhat worse for wear and totally transformed by each reader, for begun by one brave soul, were notations in the margins of each and every page. "That poem reminded me of my grandmother." "Will my boyfriend every come back to me?" "I cried for hours after I read this." Beautiful, anonymous, heartfelt words now covered the book and I found myself a bit transformed as well. What was once a lovely book of poetry was now a precious keeper of soulful emotions. I was able to find two other books by the same publisher and sent them off into the world to come back to me the same way. I'm not sure what happened to those little volumes. Perhaps they traveled too far afield to return to me. I know they served their purpose well and were certainly a blessing to me.
I'm not sure what sparked the memory of those little volumes, but remembering them made me think that I'd like to try something here on the blog. Each Monday I will post a bit of poetry and an image and invite any and all readers to comment on what they make you think of. Feel free to comment anonymously if that makes it safer for you. The idea is that I will put out small seeds that might trigger a thought you'd like to share. If not, that's ok, too. We'll give it a try and see where it goes.
Today - Guest
Rabindranath Tagore
Guest
Lady, you have filled these exile days of mine
With sweetness, made a foreign traveler your own
As easily as these unfamiliar stars, quietly,
Cooly smiling from heaven, have likewise given me
Welcome. When I stood at this window and stared
At the southern sky, a message seemed to slide
Into my soul from the harmony of the stars,
A solemn music that said, "We know you are ours-
Guest of our light from the day you passed
From darkness into the world, always our guest."
Lady, your kindness is a star, the same solemn tune
In your glance seems to say, "I know you are mine."
I do not know your language, but I hear your melody:
"Poet, guest of my love, my guest eternally."
From Selected Poems, Translated by William Radice
