None of the facilities that poetry prepares for lovers is available in Calcutta. Where is the row of flowering trees, where the bower of vines beneath the full moon, where the honey-throated cuckoo’s songs? But still the magic of love is not thwarted in this harsh and arid metropolis devoid of beauty. Hundreds of times… Continue reading Excerpt: A brand new translation of Tagore’s Noukadubi (The Boat-wreck)
