TWO MYSTIC POEMS IN MODERN FRENCH Here is the first poem, I give only the text, followed by an explanatory paraphrase. (I) Chanson Des Étages Il fait jour chez la reine. C'est la nuit près du roi. Déjà chante la reine. A peine dort le roi. Les ombres qui l'enchaînent, Une à une, il les voit. Le regard de la reine Ne s'y attache pas. Le destin qui les mène, Dont frissonne le roi, Ne trouble point la reine. Brillent la mer au bas, Et, rythme de ses veines, Celle qui la brûla, Sæur de la vague même. Ô minutes sereines, Vous n'êtes plus au roi!

THE SHAKESPEAREAN WORD The Vedic rishi, says the poet, by his poetic power, brings out forms, beautiful forms in the high heaven. In this respect, Shakespeare is incomparable. He has through his words painted pictures, glowing living pictures of undying beauty. Indeed all poets do this, each in his own way. To create beautiful concrete images that stand vivid before the mind's eye is the natural genius of a poet. Here is a familiar picture, simple and effective, of a material vision: Cold blows the blast across the moor The sleet drives hissing in the wind, Yon toilsome mountain lies before, A dreary treeles

BORIS PASTERNAK The portrait of the late poet (for he is more of a poet than a novelist, as has been pointed out) on the cover of the British edition of his novel Dr. Zhivago seems to be the very image of the tragic hero. Indeed he reminds one of Hamlet as he stood on the ramparts of the castle of Elsinor. Curiously, the very first poem in the collection at the end of that book is entitled "Hamlet" and the significant cry rings out of it: Abba, Father, if it be possible Let this cup pass from me. Here is a sensitive soul thrown into a world where one has to draw one's breath in pain. Even like the Son of Man, the exemplar and prototy

JULES SUPERVIELLE Jules Supervielle is a French poet and a modem French poet. He belongs to this century and died only a few years ago. Although he wrote in French, he came of a Spanish colonist family settled in South America (Montevideo). He came to France early in life and was educated there. He lived in France but maintained his relation with his mother-country. His poetry is very characteristic and adds almost a new vein to the spirit and manner of French poetry. He has bypassed the rational and emotional tradition of his adopted country, brought in a mystic way of vision characteristic of the East. This mysticism is not however the normal spiritua

TWO MYSTIC POEMS IN MODERN BENGALI Here is the first one as I translate it: Baritone1 Let us all move together, one and all, Together into the cavern of the ribs, Raise there a song of discordant sounds— Red and blue and white, kin or alien. Page-70 Listen, the groan plays on: Dreams as if possessed Swing, like bats on branches; Is now the time for the dance? Come, let us all move together, one and all. Let the streams meet in the body, one and all, Yes, let the bones brighten up still more; Let us all go around the fire And scrape and eat

TWO SONNETS OF SHAKESPEARE On the occasion of the 400th birth anniversary of Shakespeare, I present to you today two of the great Shakespearean sonnets. The sonnets, as you know, are all about love. They are however characterised by an incredible intensity and perhaps an equally incredible complexity, for the Shakespearean feeling is of that category. Shakespeare has treated love in a novel way; he has given a new figure to that common familiar sentiment. And incidentally he has given a new sense and bearing to Death. From a human carnal base there is a struggle, an effort here to rise into something extracorporeal; that is, something outside a

RABINDRANATH AND SRI AUROBINDO "Tagore has been a wayfarer towards the same goal as ours in his own way." Sri Aurobindo wrote these words in the thirties and their full significance can be grasped only when it is understood that the two master-souls were at one in the central purpose of their lives. Also there is a further bond of natural affinity between them centring round the fact that both were poets, in a deeper sense, seer poets—Rabindranath the Poet of the Dawn, Sri Aurobindo the Poet and Prophet of the Eternal Day, a new Dawn and Day for the human race. And both had the vision of a greater Tomorrow for their Motherland and that was w

A VEDIC STORY (RlGVEDA - X. 51.) The gods are in a great fix. Where is Agni? How is it that the comrade has disappeared all on a sudden? The Sacrifice—the great work has to be undertaken. And he is to be the leader, for he alone can take up the burden. There is no time to be lost, everything is ready for the ceremony to start and just at the moment the one needed most is nowhere. So the gods organise a search party to find out the Whereabouts of the runaway god. The search party consists of Varuna, Mitra and Yama. We shall presently understand the sense of the selection. They look about here and there—in ten directions, it is mentioned—and at last

GEORGE SEFERIS Poet and essayist in modem Greek. Translated poems of the English poet, George Eliot, into modern Greek; was in diplomatic service, now retired and settled in Athens. Awarded the Nobel Prize for literature in 1963. An Elder, maître, now in the literary world of modem Greece. References: "Poetry" (Chicago); Greek Number, June 1951; "Poetry", Greek Number, October 1964; '"Poems" translated by Rex Warner (the Bodley Head. London) Seferis is a poet of sighs. I do not know the cadence, the breath of the original Greek rhythm. But if something of that tone and temper has been carried over into English, what can be more like a heave of sign t

ROBERT GRAVES Robert Graves is not a major poet, and certainly not a great poet. He is a minor poet. But in spite of his minor rank he is a good poet: here he presents us a jewel, a beautiful poem both in form and substance. He has indeed succeeded, as we shall see, in removing the veil, the mystic golden lid, partially at least and revealed to our mortal vision a glimpse of light and beauty and truth, made them delightfully sink into and seep through our aesthetic sense. Like the poet his idol also is of a lower rank or of a plebeian status. He keeps away from such high gods as Indra and Agni and Varuna and Mitra: great poets will sing their praises. He wi