The Joys of the Job
I walked into work half an hour late this beautiful mild morning, to find my boss elbow-deep in paint, paper, gum and scissors, grinning delightedly to himself. It was springtime on his desk. “Hullo!”,...
View ArticleTranslating Tagore
Reading Tagore in translation is frequently a torture for those familiar with the original, for the lyrical simplicity of his language is nearly impossible to translate in all its layered complexity....
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