Termites of times couldnot tarnish the thralldom
Nor could compose threnody…
O, Pillars of Brookside Bunglow
Thousands of leaves fell, became earth
Thousands of leaves flowered, became wind
Tall trees of Pines, Eucalyptus and Debdaru’s
That grew out of Tagore’s footprint
Rooted deep in the abode of clouds
Still touch the sky with Tallest Tagore’s thrall.
Every night made the stars shine brighter
lighting the Brookside Bungalow - since 1919
thirty days…and again
O great man we love
walked on windswept ridge
walked on green gorge
and fell in love with so unknown that glorifies unknownness
thirteen notes of love, hail shillong
‘1928 - shesar Kavita’ wrapped in clouds
Still the same stars shine through these clouds on Brookside Bunglow
Still the last poems thrive to last
On the pillars of Brookside Bunglow
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem