The Neighbor: Rabindranath Tagore
Artist:Rabindranath Tagore The Neighbor B y Rabindranath Tagore Trans. by Palash Mahmud My neighbor is a widow like a weeping jasmine soaked with the autumn drews detached from its petiole; she is not for adorning the flower-bed in a bride chamber but only for offering to the gods. I used to worship her so secretly in my mind. I could not express my romantic feelings about her without borrowing the word worship in lacking of other appropriate, simple dictions- to other people, even, to myself. Believe it or not, Nabinmadhab, my dearly blossom friend, didn't know anything about it. I had been feeling a flicker of delight and pride that I was concealing my such an intense feeling of love in the bottom of my heart so successfully. But it is also universally acknowledged that our emotional force is not bound to be locked up its sources like the Parbati river. It always conspires to break out by any means. It feels a great deal of sadness ...