Poem Hunter
(7 May 1861 – 7 August 1941 / Calcutta (Kolkata), Bengal Presidency / British India)


Poem By Rabindranath Tagore

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
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?

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Comments (14)

An out standing sublimation of trifle acts of a child with their comparison with nature's marvels and their presentation.
this is actually the so called perception of society to every other human being for nothing, just always be judgemental in other's life....why to be? ANALYZE the things not the HUMANS...
To turn a child into what they are not is defamation of the soul.
Loneliness is the main theme of this poem.
Nice poem I love this poem and ofcourse rabindranath is a great poet in our country of India