Rabindranath Tagore’s poem ‘New Rain’ is a mesmerising description of the sights and scenes that one beholds when the much-awaited first monsoon showers arrive. The peacock dances with rapture and the heart dances with the peacock. The paradisaical visions of mother nature seem to intertwine with youthful longing for the charming beloved and creation is in the offing. Tagore’s simple yet sonorous words reflect the spirit of joy and hope of Indian monsoon.
It dances today my heart, like a peacock it dances, it dances. It sports a mosaic of passions, like a peacock’s tail, It soars to the sky with delight, it quests, O wildly it dances today, my heart, like a peacock it dances.
Storm-clouds roll through the sky, vaunting their thunder, their thunder. Rice-plants bend and sway as the water rushes, Frogs croak, doves huddle and tremble in their nests, O proudly storm-clouds roll through the sky, vaunting their thunder.
Rain-clouds wet my eyes with their blue collyrium, collyrium. I spread out my joy on the shaded new woodland grass, My soul and kadamba-trees blossom together, O coolly rain-clouds wet my eyes with their blue collyrium.
Who wanders high on the palace-tower, hair unravelled, unravelled – Pulling her cloud-blue sari close to her breast? Who gambols in the shock and flame of the lightning, O who is it high on the tower today with hair unravelled?
Who sits in the reeds by the river in pure green garments, green garments? Her water-pot drifts from the bank as she scans the horizon, Longing, distractedly chewing fresh jasmine, O who is it sitting in the reeds by the river in pure green garments?
Who swings on that bakul-tree branch today in the wilderness, wilderness – Scattering clusters of blooms, sari-hem flying, Hair unplaited and blown in her eyes? O to and fro high and low swinging, who swings on that branch in the wilderness?
Who moors her boat where ketakī-trees are flowering, flowering? She has gathered moss in the loose fold of her sari, Her tearful rain-songs capture my heart, O who is it moored to the bank where ketakī-trees are flowering?
It dances today, my heart, like a peacock it dances, it dances. The woods vibrate with cicadas, Rain soaks leaves, The river roars nearer and nearer the village, O wildly it dances today, my heart, like a peacock it dances.
