Sleep-Stealer Poem by Rabindranath Tagore

Sleep-Stealer Poem by Rabindranath Tagore

Who stole sleep from the baby's eyes? I must know.

Clasping her pitcher to her waist mother went to fetch water

from the village nearby.

It was noon. The children's playtime was over; 

the ducks in the pond were silent.

The shepherd boy lay asleep under 

the shadow of the banyan tree.

The crane stood grave and still in 

the swamp near the mango grove.

In the meanwhile, the Sleep-stealer came and, 

snatching sleep from the baby's eyes, flew away.

When the mother came back she found the baby 

traveling the room over on all fours.

Who stole sleep from our baby's eyes? 

I must know. I must find her and chain her up.

I must look into that dark cave, where, 

through boulders and scowling stones, trickles a tiny stream.

I must search in the drowsy shade of the Bakula grove, 

where pigeons coo in their corner, 

and fairies' anklets tinkle in the stillness of starry nights.

In the evening I will peep into 

the whispering silence of the bamboo forest, 

where fireflies squander their light, 

and will ask every creature I meet, 

"Can anybody tell me where the Sleep-stealer lives?"

Who stole sleep from the baby's eyes? I must know.

Shouldn't I give her a good lesson 

if I could only catch her!

I would raid her nest and see where 

she hoards all her stolen sleep.

I would plunder it all, 

and carry it home.

I would bind her two wings securely, 

set her on the bank of the river, 

and then let her play at fishing 

with a reed among the rushes and water-lilies.

When the marketing is over in the evening, 

and the village children sit in their mothers' laps, 

then the night birds will mockingly din her ears with:

"Whose sleep will you steal now?"

Rabindranath Tagore