The Collected Plays. Rabindranath Tagore
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In the spring breeze the mango-blossoms launch their messages to the unknown
And the new leaves dream aloud all day.
O Sirish, you have cast your perfume-net round our hearts,
Drawing them out in songs.
(Disclosed among the branches of trees, suddenly lighted up, boys representing champak blossoms.)
SONG OF THE BLOSSOMING CHAMPAK
My shadow dances in your waves, everflowing river,
I, the blossoming champak, stand unmoved on the bank, with my flower-vigils.
My movement dwells in the stillness of my depth,
In the delicious birth of new leaves,
In flood of flowers,
In unseen urge of new life towards the light.
Its stirring thrills the sky, and the silence of the dawn is moved.
MORNING
(The rear stage is now darkened. On the main stage, bright, enter a band of youths whose number may be anything between three and thirty. They sing.)
The fire of April leaps from forest to forest,
Flashing up in leaves and flowers from all nooks and corners.
The sky is thriftless with colours,
The air delirious with songs.
The wind-tost branches of the woodland
Spread their unrest in our blood.
The air is filled with bewilderment of mirth;
And the breeze rushes from flower to flower, asking their names.
(In the following dialogue only the names of the principal characters are given. Wherever the name is not given the speaker is one or other of the Youths.)
April pulls hard, brother, April pulls very hard.
How do you know that?
If he didn't, he would never have pulled Dada outside his den.
Well, I declare. Here is Dada, our cargo-boat of moral-maxims, towed against the current of his own pen and ink.
Chandra
But you mustn't give April all the credit for that. For I, Chandra, have hidden the yellow leaves of his manuscript book among the young buds of the pial forest, and Dada is out looking for it.
The manuscript book banished! What a good riddance!
We ought to strip off Dada's grey philosopher's cloak also.
Chandra
Yes, the very dust of the earth is tingling with youth, and yet there's not a single touch of Spring in the whole of Dada's body.
Dada
Oh, do stop this fooling. What a nuisance you are making of yourselves! We aren't children any longer.
Chandra
Dada, the age of this earth is scarcely less than yours; and yet it is not ashamed to look fresh.
Dada, you are always struggling with those quatrains of yours, full of advice that is as old as death, while the earth and the water are ever striving to be new.
Dada, how in the world can you go on writing verses like that, sitting in your den?
Dada
Well, you see, I don't cultivate poetry, as an amateur gardener cultivates flowers. My poems have substance and weight in them.
Yes, they are like the turnips, which cling to the ground.
Dada
Well, then, listen to me——
How awful! Here's Dada going to run amuck with his quatrains.
Oh dear, oh dear! The quatrains are let loose. There's no holding them in.
To all passers-by I give notice that Dada's quatrains have gone mad, and are running amuck.
Chandra
Dada! Don't take any notice of their fun. Go on with your reading. If no one else can survive it, I think I can. I am not a coward like these fellows.
Come on, then, Dada. We won't be cowards. We will keep our ground, and not yield an inch, but only listen.
We will receive the spear-thrusts of the quatrains on our breast, not on our back.
But for pity's sake, Dada, give us only one—not more.
Dada
Very well. Now listen:
If bamboos were made only into flutes,
They would droop and die with very shame,
They hold their heads high in the sky,
Because they are variously useful.
Please, gentlemen, don't laugh. Have patience while I explain. The meaning is——
The meaning?
What? Must the infantry charge of meaning follow the cannonading of your quatrains, to complete the rout?
Dada
Just one word to make you understand. It means, that if the bamboos were no better than those noisy instruments——
No, Dada, we must not understand.
I defy you to make us understand.
Dada, if you use force to make us understand we shall use force to force ourselves not to understand.
Dada
The gist of the quatrain is this, that if we do no good to the world, then——
Then the world will be very greatly relieved.
Dada
There is another verse that makes it clearer:
There are numerous stars in the midnight sky,
Which hang in the air for no purpose;
If they would only come down to earth,
For the street lighting they might be useful.
I see we must make clearer our meaning. Catch him. Let's raise him up, shoulder high, and take him back to his den.
Dada
Why are you so excited to-day? Have you any particular business to do?
Yes, we have very urgent business,—very urgent indeed.
Dada
What is your business about?
We are out to seek a play for our Spring festival.
Dada
Play! Day and night, play!
(They sing.)
We are free, my friends, from the fear of work,
For we know that work is play,— the play of life.
It is Play, to fight and toss, between life and death;
It is Play that flashes in the laughter of light in the infinite heart;
It roars in the wind, and surges in the sea.
Oh, here comes our Leader. Brothers—our Leader, our Leader.
Leader
Hallo! What a noise you make!
Was it that which made you come out of doors?
Leader
Yes.
Well, we did it for that very purpose.
Leader