Chitra Before Crying Again Some May
9.six: Tagore, Rabindranath. Chitra (1914)
- Folio ID
- 42963
Chitra
A comedy play
by Rabindranath Tagore
1914
The Characters
GODS:
MADANA (Eros).
VASANTA (Lycoris).
MORTALS:
CHITRA, girl of the Rex of Manipur.
ARJUNA, a prince of the firm of the Kurus. He is of the
Kshatriya or "warrior caste," and during the action is living as
a Hermit retired in the wood.
VILLAGERS from an outlying commune of Manipur.
NOTE.—The dramatic poem "Chitra" has been performed in India
without scenery—the actors being surrounded by the audition.
Proposals for its product hither having been made to him, he
went through this translation and provided stage directions, only
wished these omitted if it were printed as a volume.
Scene I
Chitra
Art thou the god with the 5 darts, the Lord of Honey?
Madana
I am he who was the start born in the eye of the Creator. I
bind in bonds of pain and elation the lives of men and women!
Chitra
I know, I know what that pain is and those bonds.—And who art
thou, my lord?
Vasanta
I am his friend—Vasanta—the King of the Seasons. Decease and
decrepitude would vesture the world to the bone merely that I follow
them and constantly attack them. I am Eternal Youth.
Chitra
I bow to thee, Lord Vasanta.
Madana
Simply what stern vow is thine, fair stranger? Why dost thou wither
thy fresh youth with penance and mortification? Such a cede
is not fit for the worship of love. Who art thou and what is thy
prayer?
Chitra
I am Chitra, the daughter of the kingly house of Manipur. With
godlike grace Lord Shiva promised to my royal grandsire an
unbroken line of male person descent. Nevertheless, the divine word
proved powerless to modify the spark of life in my mother'southward womb
—so invincible was my nature, woman though I be.
Madana
I know, that is why thy male parent brings thee upward equally his son. He has
taught thee the use of the bow and all the duties of a king.
Chitra
Yes, that is why I am dressed in human'south attire and have left the
seclusion of a woman'southward chamber. I know no feminine wiles for
winning hearts. My hands are strong to curve the bow, but I take
never learnt Cupid'southward archery, the play of eyes.
Madana
That requires no schooling, fair ane. The heart does its work
untaught, and he knows how well, who is struck in the eye.
Chitra
One day in search of game I roved alone to the forest on the depository financial institution
of the Purna river. Tying my horse to a tree trunk I entered a
dense thicket on the track of a deer. I constitute a narrow sinuous
path meandering through the dusk of the entangled boughs, the
foliage vibrated with the chirping of crickets, when of a sudden
I came upon a homo lying on a bed of dried leaves, across my path.
I asked him haughtily to movement aside, just he heeded non. Then
with the sharp terminate of my bow I pricked him in antipathy.
Instantly he leapt upward with straight, tall limbs, like a sudden
tongue of fire from a heap of ashes. An amused smile flickered
round the corners of his oral fissure, perhaps at the sight of my boyish
countenance. Then for the get-go time in my life I felt myself a
woman, and knew that a human being was before me.
Madana
At the auspicious hour I teach the man and the adult female this supreme
lesson to know themselves. What happened afterward that?
Chitra
With fear and wonder I asked him "Who are yous?" "I am Arjuna," he
said, "of the smashing Kuru clan." I stood petrified like a statue,
and forgot to do him obeisance. Was this indeed Arjuna, the one
great idol of my dreams! Yes, I had long ago heard how he had
vowed a twelve-years' celibacy. Many a day my young ambition had
spurred me on to break my lance with him, to challenge him in
disguise to single gainsay, and prove my skill in arms against
him. Ah, foolish heart, whither fled thy presumption? Could I
but exchange my youth with all its aspirations for the clod of
earth under his feet, I should deem it a virtually precious grace. I
know not in what whirlpool of thought I was lost, when suddenly I
saw him vanish through the trees. O foolish woman, neither didst
one thousand greet him, nor speak a discussion, nor beg forgiveness, but
stoodest like a barbarian boor while he contemptuously walked
away! . . . Adjacent morn I laid bated my man's vesture. I
donned bracelets, anklets, waist-chain, and a gown of purple red
silk. The unaccustomed dress clung about my shrinking shame; but
I hastened on my quest, and found Arjuna in the woods temple of
Shiva.
Madana
Tell me the story to the end. I am the eye-born god, and I
understand the mystery of these impulses.
Chitra
Only vaguely tin can I call back what things I said, and what respond I
got. Practice non ask me to tell you all. Shame fell on me like a
thunderbolt, yet could not break me to pieces, so utterly hard,
then like a man am I. His concluding words as I walked home pricked my
ears like red hot needles. "I have taken the vow of celibacy. I
am not fit to be thy husband!" Oh, the vow of a man! Surely
1000 knowest, thou god of love, that unnumbered saints and sages
accept surrendered the merits of their life-long penance at the
feet of a woman. I broke my bow in ii and burnt my arrows in
the fire. I hated my strong, lithe arm, scored past cartoon the
bowstring. O Dearest, god Love, g hast laid low in the dust the
vain pride of my macho force; and all my man'south training lies
crushed under thy anxiety. Now teach me thy lessons; give me the
ability of the weak and the weapon of the unarmed paw.
Madana
I will be thy friend. I will bring the world-conquering Arjuna a
captive before thee, to accept his rebellion'south sentence at thy
hand.
Chitra
Had I only the time needed, I could win his center by deadening degrees,
and ask no help of the gods. I would stand past his side equally a
comrade, bulldoze the fierce horses of his state of war-chariot, attend him
in the pleasures of the chase, proceed guard at nighttime at the
entrance of his tent, and help him in all the smashing duties of a
Kshatriya, rescuing the weak, and meting out justice where it is
due. Surely at last the day would have come up for him to look at
me and wonder, "What boy is this? Has i of my slaves in a
sometime life followed me like my good deeds into this?" I am not
the woman who nourishes her despair in lonely silence, feeding it
with nightly tears and covering information technology with the daily patient smile,
a widow from her birth. The flower of my desire shall never drop
into the grit before information technology has ripened to fruit. But it is the
labour of a life time to make ane'southward truthful self known and honoured.
Therefore I accept come to thy door, yard world-vanquishing Love,
and thousand, Vasanta, youthful Lord of the Seasons, take from
my young body this primal injustice, an unattractive plainness.
For a single solar day make me superbly cute, even every bit beautiful as
was the sudden blooming of beloved in my middle. Give me only one
brief mean solar day of perfect beauty, and I will answer for the days that
follow.
Madana
Lady, I grant thy prayer.
Vasanta
Not for the brusk span of a solar day, but for one whole yr the amuse
of spring blossoms shall nestle circular thy limbs.
Scene II
Arjuna
WAS I dreaming or was what I saw past the lake truly there?
Sitting on the mossy turf, I mused over bygone years in the
sloping shadows of the evening, when slowly there came out from
the folding darkness of leafage an apparition of beauty in the
perfect form of a woman, and stood on a white slab of rock at
the water'southward brink. It seemed that the heart of the globe must
boost in joy under her bare white feet. Methought the vague
veilings of her body should melt in ecstasy into air every bit the
golden mist of dawn melts from off the snowy elevation of the eastern
hill. She bowed herself above the shining mirror of the lake and
saw the reflection of her face. She started upward in awe and stood
notwithstanding; and so smiled, and with a careless sweep of her left arm
unloosed her hair and allow it trail on the earth at her feet. She
bared her bosom and looked at her arms, and so flawlessly modelled,
and instinct with an exquisite cuddle. Bending her head she
saw the sweet blossoming of her youth and the tender bloom and
blush of her pare. She beamed with a glad surprise. So, if the
white lotus bud on opening her eyes in the morning were to arch
her neck and meet her shadow in the water, would she wonder at
herself the livelong solar day. Only a moment after the smile passed
from her face and a shade of sadness crept into her eyes. She
spring up her tresses, drew her veil over her arms, and sighing
slowly, walked abroad similar a beauteous evening fading into the
night. To me the supreme fulfilment of desire seemed to have
been revealed in a flash and and then to have vanished. . . . Only who
is it that pushes the door?
Enter CHITRA, dressed equally a adult female.
Ah! it is she. Repose, my heart! . . . Fear me non, lady! I am
a Kshatriya.
Chitra
Honoured sir, you are my guest. I live in this temple. I know
non in what way I can show you hospitality.
Arjuna
Fair lady, the very sight of you is indeed the highest
hospitality. If you will not accept it awry I would enquire you a
question.
Chitra
You have permission.
Arjuna
What stern vow keeps you immured in this solitary temple,
depriving all mortals of a vision of and so much loveliness?
Chitra
I harbour a hole-and-corner desire in my eye, for the fulfilment of
which I offer daily prayers to Lord Shiva.
Arjuna
Alas, what can you desire, y'all who are the desire of the whole
earth! From the easternmost hill on whose summit the morning sun
first prints his fiery pes to the end of the dusk land accept I
travelled. I have seen whatever is most precious, beautiful and
great on the globe. My knowledge shall be yours, only say for
what or for whom you seek.
Chitra
He whom I seek is known to all.
Arjuna
Indeed! Who may this favourite of the gods exist, whose fame has
captured your heart?
Chitra
Sprung from the highest of all royal houses, the greatest of all
heroes is he.
Arjuna
Lady, offer non such wealth of beauty equally is yours on the altar of
false reputation. Spurious fame spreads from natural language to natural language
like the fog of the early dawn before the sunday rises. Tell me who
in the highest of kingly lines is the supreme hero?
Chitra
Hermit, you are jealous of other men's fame. Do y'all non know
that all over the world the imperial house of the Kurus is the most
famous?
Arjuna
The house of the Kurus!
Chitra
And accept you never heard of the greatest name of that far-famed
business firm?
Arjuna
From your own lips let me hear it.
Chitra
Arjuna, the conqueror of the world. I have culled from the
mouths of the multitude that imperishable proper noun and subconscious it with
care in my maiden middle. Hermit, why do you wait perturbed? Has
that name merely a deceitful glitter? Say so, and I will not
hesitate to break this casket of my heart and throw the faux gem
to the dust.
Arjuna
Be his name and fame, his bravery and prowess imitation or truthful, for
mercy's sake do not banish him from your centre—for he kneels at
your feet even now.
Arjuna
Yep, I am he, the dearest-hungered guest at your door.
Chitra
Then it is not true that Arjuna has taken a vow of chastity for
twelve long years?
Arjuna
But you lot have dissolved my vow fifty-fifty every bit the moon dissolves the
dark's vow of obscurity.
Chitra
Oh, shame upon you! What have you seen in me that makes you
false to yourself? Whom practise you seek in these nighttime optics, in these
milk-white arms, if you are ready to pay for her the price of
your probity? Not my truthful self, I know. Surely this cannot be
love, this is not man'southward highest homage to woman! Alas, that this
frail disguise, the trunk, should make one bullheaded to the calorie-free of
the deathless spirit! Yep, at present indeed, I know, Arjuna, the fame
of your heroic manhood is imitation.
Arjuna
Ah, I feel how vain is fame, the pride of prowess! Everything
seems to me a dream. Yous alone are perfect; y'all are the wealth
of the world, the stop of all poverty, the goal of all efforts,
the one woman! Others there are who can exist but slowly known.
While to see you lot for a moment is to run across perfect completeness
once and for ever.
Chitra
Alas, it is not I, not I, Arjuna! It is the cant of a god.
Go, go, my hero, go. Woo non falsehood, offer not your keen
heart to an illusion. Go.
Scene III
Chitra
No, impossible. To face up that fervent gaze that virtually grasps y'all
similar clutching hands of the hungry spirit within; to feel his
heart struggling to break its premises urging its passionate weep
through the unabridged trunk—and and so to transport him abroad similar a
ragamuffin—no, impossible.
Enter MADANA and VASANTA.
Ah, god of love, what fearful flame is this with which k hast
enveloped me! I burn, and I burn down whatever I touch.
Madana
I want to know what happened last night.
Chitra
At evening I lay downwardly on a grassy bed strewn with the petals of
spring flowers, and recollected the wonderful praise of my beauty
I had heard from Arjuna;—drinking drib past drop the honey that I
had stored during the long day. The history of my by life like
that of my erstwhile existences was forgotten. I felt like a
flower, which has but a few fleeting hours to heed to all the
humming flatteries and whispered murmurs of the woodlands and
and so must lower its eyes from the Sky, bend its head and at a
breath give itself upwards to the dust without a cry, thus ending the
brusk story of a perfect moment that has neither by nor future.
Vasanta
A limitless life of celebrity can bloom and spend itself in a
morning time.
Madana
Like an endless meaning in the narrow span of a vocal.
Chitra
The southern cakewalk caressed me to sleep. From the flowering
Malati bower overhead silent kisses dropped over my body.
On my hair, my breast, my feet, each flower chose a bed to dice
on. I slept. And, suddenly in the depth of my sleep, I felt as
if some intense eager look, like tapering fingers of flame,
touched my slumbering torso. I started upward and saw the Hermit
standing earlier me. The moon had moved to the west, peering
through the leaves to espy this wonder of divine art wrought in a
delicate human frame. The air was heavy with perfume; the silence
of the night was song with the chirping of crickets; the
reflections of the trees hung motionless in the lake; and with
his staff in his hand he stood, alpine and straight and still, like
a forest tree. Information technology seemed to me that I had, on opening my eyes,
died to all realities of life and undergone a dream birth into a
shadow country. Shame slipped to my anxiety like loosened apparel. I
heard his telephone call—"Dear, my about dear!" And all my forgotten
lives united as one and responded to information technology. I said, "Take me, take
all I am!" And I stretched out my artillery to him. The moon set up
behind the copse. 1 curtain of darkness covered all. Sky
and earth, time and infinite, pleasure and pain, expiry and life
merged together in an unbearable ecstasy. . . . With the commencement
gleam of light, the first twitter of birds, I rose upwardly and sabbatum
leaning on my left arm. He lay asleep with a vague smile about
his lips like the crescent moon in the morning. The rosy red
glow of the dawn savage upon his noble forehead. I sighed and
stood up. I drew together the leafy lianas to screen the
streaming sun from his face. I looked almost me and saw the same
old globe. I remembered what I used to exist, and ran and ran like
a deer agape of her ain shadow, through the forest path strewn
with shephali flowers. I found a lone nook, and sitting down
covered my face with both hands, and tried to cry and cry. But
no tears came to my eyes.
Madana
Alas, thou daughter of mortals! I stole from the divine
Storehouse the fragrant wine of heaven, filled with it one
earthly night to the skirt, and placed information technology in thy hand to beverage—
withal nonetheless I hear this weep of ache!
Chitra [bitterly]
Who drank it? The rarest completion of life's desire, the commencement
matrimony of dear was proffered to me, but was wrested from my grasp?
This borrowed beauty, this falsehood that enwraps me, will slip
from me taking with information technology the just monument of that sweet marriage, equally
the petals fall from an overblown flower; and the woman aback
of her naked poverty will sit weeping day and night. Lord Beloved,
this cursed appearance companions me like a demon robbing me of
all the prizes of love—all the kisses for which my heart is
athirst.
Madana
Alas, how vain thy single night had been! The barque of joy came
in sight, only the waves would not let information technology touch on the shore.
Chitra
Heaven came so shut to my hand that I forgot for a moment that
it had not reached me. But when I woke in the morning time from my
dream I establish that my body had go my own rival. It is my
hateful task to deck her every day, to transport her to my beloved and
see her caressed by him. O god, take dorsum thy benefaction!
Madana
But if I take it from you lot how can you stand up before your lover?
To snatch away the cup from his lips when he has scarcely drained
his commencement draught of pleasure, would not that exist barbarous? With
what resentful anger he must regard thee then?
Chitra
That would be better far than this. I will reveal my true self
to him, a nobler thing than this disguise. If he rejects information technology, if
he spurns me and breaks my heart, I will bear even that in
silence.
Vasanta
Listen to my communication. When with the advent of autumn the
flowering flavor is over then comes the triumph of fruitage. A
time will come of itself when the rut-cloyed bloom of the trunk
volition droop and Arjuna will gladly accept the constant fruitful
truth in thee. O child, become dorsum to thy mad festival.
Scene IV
Chitra
Why practise you watch me like that, my warrior?
Arjuna
I lookout how you weave that garland. Skill and grace, the twin
brother and sister, are dancing playfully on your finger tips. I
am watching and thinking.
Chitra
What are you thinking, sir?
Arjuna
I am thinking that you, with this same lightness of touch and
sweetness, are weaving my days of exile into an immortal wreath,
to crown me when I render dwelling house.
Chitra
Domicile! Merely this love is not for a domicile!
Chitra
No. Never talk of that. Take to your domicile what is abiding and
strong. Leave the trivial wild flower where it was born; exit it
beautifully to die at the day's end amidst all fading blossoms and
decaying leaves. Do not take information technology to your palace hall to fling information technology
on the stony floor which knows no compassion for things that fade and
are forgotten.
Arjuna
Is ours that kind of love?
Chitra
Yeah, no other! Why regret it? That which was meant for idle
days should never outlive them. Joy turns into hurting when the
door by which information technology should depart is shut against information technology. Take information technology and
proceed it every bit long as it lasts. Let not the satiety of your evening
merits more than the desire of your morning could earn. . . . The
day is done. Put this garland on. I am tired. Take me in your
arms, my dearest. Let all vain bickerings of discontent die abroad at
the sweet meeting of our lips.
Arjuna
Hush! Listen, my beloved, the audio of prayer bells from the
distant village temple steals upon the evening air across the
silent copse!
Scene V
Vasanta
I cannot keep pace with thee, my friend! I am tired. It is a
hard task to proceed alive the fire m hast kindled. Sleep
overtakes me, the fan drops from my hand, and cold ashes cover
the glow of the fire. I start up again from my sleep and with
all my might rescue the weary flame. But this tin can proceed no
longer.
Madana
I know, thou art as fickle equally a kid. Ever restless is thy play
in heaven and on earth. Things that thou for days buildest up
with endless detail thou dost shatter in a moment without regret.
But this work of ours is near finished. Pleasure-winged days
fly fast, and the yr, almost at its end, swoons in rapturous
bliss.
Scene VI
Arjuna
I woke in the morning and plant that my dreams had distilled a
precious stone. I have no casket to inclose information technology, no male monarch's crown whereon to
set up information technology, no chain from which to hang information technology, and yet take not the
heart to throw it away. My Kshatriya'southward right arm, idly occupied
in belongings information technology, forgets its duties.
Enter CHITRA.
Chitra
Tell me your thoughts, sir!
Arjuna
My heed is busy with thoughts of hunting today. Run into, how the
pelting pours in torrents and fiercely beats upon the hillside. The
nighttime shadow of the clouds hangs heavily over the forest, and the
swollen stream, similar reckless youth, overleaps all barriers with
mocking laughter. On such rainy days nosotros v brothers would go
to the Chitraka forest to hunt wild beasts. Those were glad
times. Our hearts danced to the drumbeat of rumbling clouds. The
woods resounded with the screams of peacocks. Timid deer could
not hear our approaching steps for the patter of pelting and the
dissonance of waterfalls; the leopards would exit their tracks on the
wet earth, betraying their lairs. Our sport over, nosotros dared each
other to swim beyond turbulent streams on our way back dwelling. The
restless spirit is on me. I long to go hunting.
Chitra
Get-go run down the quarry y'all are now following. Are you quite
certain that the enchanted deer you pursue must needs be caught?
No, not nonetheless. Like a dream the wild creature eludes you when it
seems well-nigh virtually yours. Look how the wind is chased by the mad
rain that discharges a thousand arrows after it. Nevertheless information technology goes
free and unconquered. Our sport is similar that, my love! You give
hunt to the fleet-footed spirit of dazzler, aiming at her every
dart you have in your hands. Yet this magic deer runs ever gratuitous
and untouched.
Arjuna
My honey, take y'all no habitation where kind hearts are waiting for your
return? A abode which y'all once made sweet with your gentle
service and whose light went out when you left information technology for this
wilderness?
Chitra
Why these questions? Are the hours of unthinking pleasure over?
Do you not know that I am no more what you meet before you?
For me in that location is no vista beyond. The dew that hangs on the tip
of a Kinsuka petal has neither name nor destination. It offers
no respond to any question. She whom you honey is like that
perfect dewdrop of dew.
Arjuna
Has she no tie with the world? Can she be merely like a fragment
of heaven dropped on the globe through the carelessness of a
wanton god?
Arjuna
Ah, that is why I e'er seem nearly to lose you. My heart is
unsatisfied, my mind knows no peace. Come up closer to me,
unattainable one! Surrender yourself to the bonds of name and
home and parentage. Let my centre feel you on all sides and live
with you lot in the peaceful security of love.
Chitra
Why this vain effort to catch and go along the tints of the clouds,
the dance of the waves, the smell of the flowers?
Arjuna
Mistress mine, do not hope to pacify honey with airy nothings.
Give me something to clasp, something that can last longer than
pleasure, that tin endure even through suffering.
Chitra
Hero mine, the year is non notwithstanding total, and y'all are tired already!
Now I know that it is Sky's approving that has made the
bloom'southward term of life brusk. Could this trunk of mine have
drooped and died with the flowers of terminal spring it surely would
have died with award. All the same, its days are numbered, my love.
Spare it not, press it dry of dearest, for fright your beggar's heart
come back to it again and again with unsated desire, like a
thirsty bee when summertime blossoms lie dead in the dust.
Scene Vii
Madana
Tonight is thy last night.
Vasanta
The loveliness of your body will return tomorrow to the
inexhaustible stores of the spring. The ruddy tint of thy lips
freed from the memory of Arjuna'southward kisses, will bud afresh equally a pair
of fresh asoka leaves, and the soft, white glow of thy pare will
exist born again in a hundred fragrant jasmine flowers.
Chitra
O gods, grant me this my prayer! Tonight, in its last hour allow
my beauty flash its brightest, like the terminal flicker of a dying
flame.
Madana
Thousand shalt accept thy wish.
Scene VIII
Villagers
Who will protect us now?
Arjuna
Why, by what danger are you threatened?
Villagers
The robbers are pouring from the northern hills like a mountain
flood to devastate our village.
Arjuna
Have yous in this kingdom no warden?
Villagers
Princess Chitra was the terror of all evil doers. While she was
in this happy land we feared natural deaths, but had no other
fears. At present she has gone on a pilgrimage, and none knows where to
detect her.
Arjuna
Is the warden of this country a woman?
Villagers
Aye, she is our father and mother in one.
[Exeunt.]
Enter CHITRA.
Chitra
Why are you sitting all alone?
Arjuna
I am trying to imagine what kind of woman Princess Chitra may be.
I hear so many stories of her from all sorts of men.
Chitra
Ah, simply she is not beautiful. She has no such lovely eyes as
mine, dark as decease. She can pierce any target she volition, just non
our hero's heart.
Arjuna
They say that in valour she is a homo, and a adult female in tenderness.
Chitra
That, indeed, is her greatest misfortune. When a woman is merely
a adult female; when she winds herself round and circular men's hearts with
her smiles and sobs and services and caressing endearments; then
she is happy. Of what use to her are learning and peachy
achievements? Could you accept seen her only yesterday in the
court of the Lord Shiva's temple by the forest path, you would
take passed past without deigning to await at her. Just have y'all
grown and so weary of woman's beauty that yous seek in her for a man's
force?
With light-green leaves moisture from the spray of the foaming waterfall, I
accept made our noonday bed in a cavern night equally night. At that place the
cool of the soft green mosses thick on the black and dripping
stone, kisses your eyes to sleep. Let me guide you thither.
Arjuna
Not today, beloved.
Arjuna
I take heard that a horde of robbers has neared the plains.
Needs must I become and prepare my weapons to protect the frightened
villagers.
Chitra
You need take no fear for them. Earlier she started on her
pilgrimage, Princess Chitra had set strong guards at all the
frontier passes.
Arjuna
Withal permit me for a short while to fix nigh a Kshatriya'south work.
With new glory will I ennoble this idle arm, and make of it a
pillow more worthy of your head.
Chitra
What if I refuse to let you become, if I keep you entwined in my
artillery? Would yous rudely snatch yourself free and leave me? Go
then! But you must know that the liana, one time broken in 2,
never joins once again. Become, if your thirst is quenched. But, if not,
then retrieve that the goddess of pleasure is fickle, and waits
for no human. Sit down for a while, my lord! Tell me what uneasy
thoughts tease y'all. Who occupied your mind today? Is it Chitra?
Arjuna
Yes, it is Chitra. I wonder in fulfilment of what vow she has
gone on her pilgrimage. Of what could she stand in demand?
Chitra
Her needs? Why, what has she e'er had, the unfortunate creature?
Her very qualities are as prison walls, shutting her adult female's
heart in a bare cell. She is obscured, she is unfulfilled. Her
womanly dearest must content itself dressed in rags; beauty is
denied her. She is like the spirit of a cheerless forenoon,
sitting upon the stony mountain peak, all her light blotted out
by dark clouds. Exercise non ask me of her life. It volition never sound
sugariness to man's ear.
Arjuna
I am eager to larn all about her. I am similar a traveller come to
a strange urban center at midnight. Domes and towers and garden-trees
look vague and shadowy, and the dull moan of the body of water comes
fitfully through the silence of sleep. Wistfully he waits for
the forenoon to reveal to him all the strange wonders. Oh, tell
me her story.
Chitra
What more is in that location to tell?
Arjuna
I seem to see her, in my mind's centre, riding on a white horse,
proudly holding the reins in her left mitt, and in her right a
bow, and like the Goddess of Victory dispensing glad hope all
round her. Like a watchful lioness she protects the litter at
her dugs with a tearing love. Woman's arms, though adorned with
nix simply unfettered forcefulness, are beautiful! My heart is
restless, fair one, like a snake reviving from his long
winter's sleep. Come, permit us both race on swift horses side past
side, like twin orbs of calorie-free sweeping through space. Out from
this slumbrous prison of green gloom, this dank, dense encompass of
perfumed intoxication, choking breath.
Chitra
Arjuna, tell me true, if, now at once, past some magic I could
shake myself costless from this voluptuous softness, this timid bloom
of dazzler shrinking from the rude and healthy touch of the world,
and fling information technology from my torso similar borrowed clothes, would yous exist
able to bear it? If I stand up upward direct and strong with the
strength of a daring heart spurning the wiles and arts of twining
weakness, if I hold my head loftier like a tall young mountain fir,
no longer trailing in the dust like a liana, shall I then appeal
to human'southward eye? No, no, you could non endure it. It is better
that I should keep spread most me all the dainty playthings of
avoiding youth, and wait for you in patience. When it pleases
y'all to return, I will smilingly pour out for you lot the wine of
pleasure in the cup of this beauteous body. When you are tired
and satiated with this vino, you tin can get to work or play; and when
I grow old I volition accept humbly and gratefully whatever corner is
left for me. Would information technology delight your heroic soul if the playmate of
the dark aspired to exist the helpmeet of the day, if the left arm
learnt to share the burden of the proud correct arm?
Arjuna
I never seem to know you aright. You seem to me like a goddess
hidden within a golden paradigm. I cannot touch y'all, I cannot pay
y'all my dues in return for your priceless gifts. Thus my love is
incomplete. Sometimes in the enigmatic depth of your pitiful look,
in your playful words mocking at their own meaning, I gain
glimpses of a being trying to rend disconnected the languorous grace
of her body, to emerge in a chaste fire of hurting through a
vaporous veil of smiles. Illusion is the outset appearance of
Truth. She advances towards her lover in disguise. Merely a time
comes when she throws off her ornaments and veils and stands
clothed in naked dignity. I grope for that ultimate yous, that
blank simplicity of truth.
Why these tears, my love? Why cover your face up with your hands?
Have I pained you lot, my darling? Forget what I said. I volition be
content with the nowadays. Permit each split moment of dazzler
come up to me like a bird of mystery from its unseen nest in the
night begetting a message of music. Let me for ever sit with
my promise on the brink of its realization, and thus end my days.
Scene Nine
CHITRA and ARJUNA
Chitra [cloaked]
My lord, has the cup been drained to the last drop? Is this,
indeed, the end? No, when all is washed something still remains,
and that is my concluding sacrifice at your feet.
I brought from the garden of heaven flowers of unequalled
beauty with which to worship you, god of my heart. If the rites
are over, if the flowers have faded, allow me throw them out of the
temple [unveiling in her original male person attire]. Now, look
at your worshipper with gracious eyes.
I am not beautifully perfect as the flowers with which I
worshipped. I have many flaws and blemishes. I am a
traveller in the bully world-path, my garments are dirty,
and my feet are bleeding with thorns. Where should I achieve
blossom-dazzler, the unsullied loveliness of a moment'due south life? The
gift that I proudly bring y'all is the centre of a woman. Here accept
all pains and joys gathered, the hopes and fears and shames of a
daughter of the dust; here dearest springs upward struggling toward
immortal life. Herein lies an imperfection which still is noble
and yard. If the flower-service is finished, my main, accept
this equally your servant for the days to come!
I am Chitra, the king's daughter. Perhaps you lot will retrieve the
day when a adult female came to you in the temple of Shiva, her body
loaded with ornaments and finery. That shameless woman came to
courtroom you as though she were a man. Y'all rejected her; you did
well. My lord, I am that woman. She was my disguise. Then by
the boon of gods I obtained for a year the nigh radiant class that
a mortal e'er wore, and wearied my hero'southward eye with the burden
of that cant. Well-nigh surely I am not that adult female.
I am Chitra. No goddess to be worshipped, nor nonetheless the
object of common compassion to be brushed aside like a moth with
indifference. If you deign to proceed me past your side in the path
of danger and daring, if you let me to share the groovy duties
of your life, and then y'all will know my true self. If your baby,
whom I am nourishing in my womb be born a son, I shall myself
teach him to be a second Arjuna, and transport him to you when the
time comes, and so at last you will truly know me. Today I can
only offer you Chitra, the daughter of a male monarch.
Arjuna
Honey, my life is full.
Biography
This photograph is in the public domain.
Rabindranath Tagore (seven May 1861 – 7 Baronial 1941), born in Calcutta, was the first non-European winner of the Nobel Prize in Literature. In add-on to being a masterful playwright, poet, and novelist, he was likewise a skilled artist. Tagore's impact on global literature cannot be understated. Several major writers -- including William Butler Yeats, Pablo Neruda, and Salmon Rushdie -- were inspired by the works of Tagore. Many statues and museums beyond the world are named in his honor.
Source: https://human.libretexts.org/Bookshelves/Literature_and_Literacy/Writing_and_Critical_Thinking_Through_Literature_(Ringo_and_Kashyap)/09%3A_Drama_Readings/9.06%3A_Tagore_Rabindranath._Chitra_(1914)
0 Response to "Chitra Before Crying Again Some May"
Enviar um comentário