The Tyger

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright,
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire in thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, and what art?
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand, and what dread feet?

What the hammer? What the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb, make thee?

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright,
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

By William Blake (1757 - 1827)

P.S.I have posted up the old English version of this lovely poem, hence "Tyger". I guess most of us have read this poem in school in either this or that prescribed book. Would be nice if our politicians, administrators and the other brass who can save India's remaining tigers (1431 or so if you believe the recently launched Aircel ad campaign) if they put their heads (and hearts together) also read this poem and understand that the tiger is not just an animal but a part of India's shared cultures, mythologies, religions and so on. But then, I wonder not many would understand "forests of the night" in these days when most of the tiger sanctuaries are either flanked / encircled by swanky resorts or cris-crossed by roads on which buses, trucks and other four wheelers rumble all night, their lights on "full beam"....