Cold By Melissa Campana

Cold

With a glance of your eyes

you could turn Medusa

to stone.

Your icy stare froze the Arctic.

To make eye contact

Is to walk around

With a storm cloud over head

The rest of the day.

I know I was wrong,

But please,

Don’t look my way.

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(“With a glance of your eyes...”)

BY RABINDRANATH TAGORE

                                                      XII

With a glance of your eyes you could plunder all the wealth of songs struck from poets’ harps, fair woman!

But for their praises you have no ear; therefore do I come to praise you.

You could humble at your feet the proudest heads of all the world;

But it is your loved ones, unknown to fame, whom you choose to worship; therefore I worship you.

Your perfect arms would add glory to kingly splendor with their touch;

But you use them to sweep away the dust, and to make clean your humble home; therefore I am filled with awe.