The Crescent Moon | Page 4

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 untidy?
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.
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?

THE JUDGE
Say of him what you please, but I know my child's failings.
I do not love him because he is good, but because he is my little child.
How should you know how dear he can be when you try to weigh his merits against his faults?
When I must punish him he becomes all the more a part of my being.
When I cause his tears to come my heart weeps with him.
I alone have a right to blame and punish, for he only may chastise who loves.

PLAYTHINGS
Child, how happy you are sitting in the dust, playing with a broken twig all the morning.
I smile at your play with that little bit of a broken twig.
I am busy with my accounts, adding up figures by the hour.
Perhaps you glance at me and think, "What a stupid game to spoil your morning with!"
Child, I have forgotten the art of being absorbed in sticks and mud-pies.
I seek out costly playthings, and gather lumps of gold and silver.
With whatever you find you create your glad games, I spend both my time and my strength over things I never can obtain.
In my frail canoe I struggle to cross the sea of desire, and forget that I too am playing a game.

THE ASTRONOMER
I only said, "When in the evening the round full moon gets entangled among the branches of that Kadam tree, couldn't somebody catch it?"
But dada [elder brother] laughed at me and said, "Baby, you are the silliest child I have ever known. The moon is ever so far from us, how could anybody catch it?"
I said, "Dada how foolish you are! When mother looks out of her window and smiles down at us playing, would you call her far away?"
Still said, "You are a stupid child! But, baby, where could you find a net big enough to catch the moon with?"
I said, "Surely you could catch it with your hands."
But dada laughed and said, "You are the silliest child I have known. If it came nearer, you would see how big the moon is."
I said, "Dada, what nonsense they teach at your school! When mother bends her face down to kiss us does her face look very big?"
But still dada says, "You are a stupid child."

CLOUDS AND WAVES
Mother, the folk who live up in the clouds call out to me--
"We play from the time we wake till the day ends.
We play with the golden dawn, we play with the silver moon.
I ask, "But, how am I to get up to you?" They answer, "Come to the edge of the earth, lift up your hands to the sky, and you will be taken up into the clouds."
"My mother is waiting for me at home," I say. "How can I leave her and come?"
Then they smile and float away.
But I know a nicer game than that, mother.
I shall be the cloud and you the moon.
I shall cover you with both my hands, and our house-top will be the blue sky.
The folk who live in the waves call out to me--
"We sing from morning till night; on and on we travel and know not where we pass."
I ask, "But, how am I to join you?" They tell me, "Come to the edge of the shore and stand with your eyes tight shut, and you will be carried out upon the waves."
I say, "My mother always wants me at home in the evening--how can I leave her and go?"
Then they smile, dance and pass by.
But I know a better game than that.
I will be the waves and you will be a strange shore.
I shall roll on and on and on, and break upon your lap with laughter.
And no one in the world will know where we both are.

THE CHAMPA FLOWER
Supposing I became a champa flower, just for fun, and grew on a branch high up that tree, and shook in the wind with laughter and danced upon the newly budded leaves, would you know me, mother?
You would call, "Baby, where are you?" and I should laugh to myself and keep quite quiet.
I should slyly open my petals and watch you at your work.
When after your bath, with wet hair spread on your shoulders, you walked through the shadow of the champa tree to the little court where you