### Krishnakali
by Rabindranath Tagore
In the village they call her the dark girl,
But to me she is Krishnakali, in full bloom.
On a cloudy afternoon in the fields,
I saw the dark gleam of her gazelle eyes.
No veil upon her head,
Her loose hair cascading down her back.
Dark? However dark she may be,
I have seen her dark gazelle eyes.
Two black cows lowed nearby,
As the clouds above grew heavier.
With anxious, hurried steps she came
Out from her lonely hut.
She raised her brows to the rumbling sky,
Listening, quiet, for just a moment.
Dark? However dark she may be,
I have seen her dark gazelle eyes.
A gust from the east
Rippled the fields of rice.
I stood alone near a ridge,
Watching, out there in the dusk.
Whether she looked at me or not—
That secret belongs to us two.
Dark? However dark she may be,
I have seen her dark gazelle eyes.
Like storm clouds rising from the northeast in Jaistha,
Like the soft dark shadow in Tamal groves of Asharh,
Like sudden joy flooding the heart
On the midnight of Sravan.
Dark? However dark she may be,
I have seen her dark gazelle eyes.
To others she may be the dark girl—
But to me, she’s the flower, Krishnakali.
It was in a field in Maynapara
That I saw the dark gleam of her gazelle eyes.
Uncovered, unafraid,
She hadn’t the time to feel shy.
Dark? However dark she may be,
I have seen her dark gazelle eyes.
Rabindranath Tagore
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