Rabindranath Tagore (7 May 1861 – 7 August 1941 / Calcutta (Kolkata), Bengal Presidency / British India)
Defamation
Whey are those tears in your eyes, my child?
How horrid of them to be always scolding you for nothing!
You have stained your fingers and face with ink while writing-
is that why they call you dirty?
O, fie! Would they dare to call the full moon dirty because
it has smudged its face with ink?
For every little trifle they blame you, my child. They are
ready to find fault for nothing.
You tore your clothes while playing-is that why they call you
untidy?
O, fie! What would they call an autumn morning that smiles
through its ragged clouds?
Take no heed of what they say to you, my child.
They make a long list of your misdeeds.
Everybody knows how you love sweet things-is that why they
call you greedy?
O, fie! What then would they call us who love you?
Read poems about / on: child, autumn, moon, children, smile
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I can really feel this poem from the character's point of view. Beautifully written.
I feel in the poem 'Defamation' somewhere Tagore is trying to point out Britishers who were ruling India at that point of time. If I am correct then this vindicates that how at that point of time Indians were looked down upon. Everything has vanished now it has become history but what is left behind is the 'ART' which will survive forever...