Even though I’ve started sending out ARCs, I’m still tweaking the conclusion to The Deep. When I asked a Bangladeshi friend for assistance, she suggested I include some poetry by Rabindranath Tagore. I’ve been reading some of his beautiful poetry this morning and think I’ve settled on “Brink of Eternity.”
In desperate hope I go and search for her
in all the corners of my room;
I find her not.
My house is small
and what once has gone from it can never be regained.
But infinite is thy mansion, my lord,
and seeking her I have to come to thy door.
I stand under the golden canopy of thine evening sky
and I lift my eager eyes to thy face.
I have come to the brink of eternity from which nothing can vanish
—no hope, no happiness, no vision of a face seen through tears.
Oh, dip my emptied life into that ocean,
plunge it into the deepest fullness.
Let me for once feel that lost sweet touch
in the allness of the universe.
This poem fits perfectly, though I’m wondering if it’s accurate to have two Bangladeshi-Senegalese teens reciting this in English…
I’m listening to the CBC this morning. Not sure why—I don’t feel particularly homesick for Canada. Maybe this scene from The Deep has me thinking about my own hybridity. After tomorrow I’ll have to take the poppy off my lapel and return it to its spot on my bulletin board until November rolls around again…