I clearly remember
It was thirty years ago
When I was twenty-five
For a few days I came to this place
And stayed in this very garden house.
At the end of the day
When the sun went down
Beyond those pine trees
The blue peaks and clouds were tinged
With the flaming evening glow
A long shadow slowly fell
On the trees and the hills
Along the pebbled way
Every day I recognized
The postman's footfalls
Days passed into months
He was never absent
Even for once.
Today the sun sets in the same place
At the end of the same pine trees
With the rhythm of the rills
In the far away hills
Vibrate the evening shadows
Among the peaks
The evening stars one by one
Chant in whispers their music of light
Only on that pebbled way
The postman's familiar footfalls
Are heard no more.
Yet I felt a yearning-
Though it is three miles away
I went to that post office for no reason.
I was diffident at first
And moved around for some time
Arriving at the counter I asked at last,
'Are there any letters for me?'
'No sir', the reply came.
Depressed and disappointed
When I was returning to my place of solitary sojourn
In the darkness I heard an anxious voice
Someone asking some traveler unknown,
'For God's sake,
Don't overstay there even for a day.'
What happened next remained unknown to me.
In me it touched a deep scar -
A deep sigh of twenty-five years ago
In a world where over those distant hills
The evening star would pulsate
With the postman's footfalls
On that pebbled way.
Translation of the poem Arek din from Parishesh by Rabindranath Tagore. Best recording of its recitation is by Partha Ghosh. The original in Bengali script may be viewed at