স্পর্শমণি (sharshamani)​​  

                                Touchstone

​

                               A poem by Rabindranath Tagore in Bengali

                             Translated by Swami Chandrashekharananda

Sanatan once was chanting the name (of God) in Vrindavan

                        Sitting on the banks of the river with a concentrated mind,

A Brahmin came at that time, to him and offered obeisance at his feet.

Asked Sanatan, "From where have you come, what is your name my dear?'

"What to say, sir, I got to meet your presence traveling a lot." said the Brahmin.

'Jiban' is my name, in Mankar is my home, in District Burdwan--

I am so unlucky and destitute, nowhere there is one like me.

There I have a small land, I maintain myself humbly with a bare minimum

I had much fame in Kriyakarma-yajna rituals before, but nothing now.

For my betterment, after worshipping Shiva, I asked boon from Him

In the morning in my dream one day,  He said 'Your prayer will be granted'

Go to the banks of the Yamuna, tender yourself at the feet of Sanatana Goswami

Consider him like your father, know that he has in his hands the way to riches.'

Hearing this Sanatan wondered thinking "What wealth do I possess!

All I left that I had, and Alms is my only sustenance now'

Oblivious memory lit up suddenly, remembering the Saint uttered - 'Right exactly right'.

One day a touchstone was found on the river bank and was collected by me.

'If it would be required in case of giving to someone'- thinking this I buried it in the sand--

Take it O dear from there, your sorrow will be removed no sooner than by its touch but it is not given me to touch.'

Brahmin quickly came and dug the sand and found the gem,

The two iron charms glowed in gold as soon as it was touched.

The Brahmin sat in amazement on the sand and thought in his mind.

Yamuna told many inspiring things in the ears of the worried by its murmuring song

Tired crimson Sun went off to the horizon across the river after the day

Brahmin got up then and fell at the saint's feet and mumbled in tears,

"Getting rich by what wealth you don't value the jewels" I plead to you to give me a little bit 

of that wealth,   I beg you with humility. Saying this he threw the touchstone in the river.