Poésies de Rabindranath TagoreI ask for a moment's indulgence to sit by thy side. The works
that I have in hand I will finish afterwards.
You say that father write a lot of books, but what he write I don't
understand.
If baby only wanted to, he could fly up to heaven this moment.
It is not for nothing that he does not leave us.
I wish I could take a quiet corner in the heart of my baby's very
own world.
When the heart is hard and parched up,
come upon me with a shower of mercy.
When grace is lost from life,
Bless this little heart, this white soul that has won the kiss of
heaven for our earth.
In desperate hope I go and search for her
in all the corners of my room;
I find her not.
My house is small
Mother, I shall weave a chain of pearls for thy neck
with my tears of sorrow.
I thought that my voyage had come to its end
at the last limit of my power,---that the path before me was closed,
Mother, the folk who live up in the clouds call out to me-
"We play from the time we wake till the day ends.
When I bring to you colored toys, my child,
I understand why there is such a play of colors on clouds, on water,
Whey are those tears in your eyes, my child?
How horrid of them to be always scolding you for nothing!
I know not from what distant time
thou art ever coming nearer to meet me.
He whom I enclose with my name is weeping in this dungeon.
Time is endless in thy hands, my lord.
There is none to count thy minutes.
Day after day, O lord of my life,
shall I stand before thee face to face.
With folded hands, O lord of all worlds,
If people came to know where my king's palace is, it would vanish
into the air.
I have got my leave. Bid me farewell, my brothers!
I bow to you all and take my departure.
Pluck this little flower and take it, delay not! I fear lest it
droop and drop into the dust.
O Fool, try to carry thyself upon thy own shoulders!
O beggar, to come beg at thy own door!
By all means they try to hold me secure who love me in this world.
Art thou abroad on this stormy night
on thy journey of love, my friend?
The sky groans like one in despair.
This is my prayer to thee, my lord---strike,
strike at the root of penury in my heart.
He it is, the innermost one,
who awakens my being with his deep hidden touches.
The time that my journey takes is long and the way of it long.
I know that the day will come
when my sight of this earth shall be lost,
and life will take its leave in silence,
Leave this chanting and singing and telling of beads!
If it is not my portion to meet thee in this life
then let me ever feel that I have missed thy sight
Light, my light, the world-filling light,
the eye-kissing light,
heart-sweetening light!
Thou hast made me endless, such is thy pleasure. This frail
Let only that little be left of me
whereby I may name thee my all.
Let only that little be left of my will
When the creation was new and all the stars shone in their first
splendor, the gods held their assembly in the sky and sang
On many an idle day have I grieved over lost time.
But it is never lost, my lord.
On the day when the lotus bloomed, alas, my mind was straying,
Come to my garden walk, my love. Pass by the fervid flowers that
press themselves on your sight. Pass them by, stopping at some
That I should make much of myself and turn it on all sides,
thus casting colored shadows on thy radiance
---such is thy Maya.
I ask for a moment's indulgence to sit by thy side. The works
that I have in hand I will finish afterwards.
Art thou abroad on this stormy night
on thy journey of love, my friend?
The sky groans like one in despair.
This song of mine will wind its music around you, my child, like
the fond arms of love.
O Fool, try to carry thyself upon thy own shoulders!
O beggar, to come beg at thy own door!
I dive down into the depth of the ocean of forms,
hoping to gain the perfect pearl of the formless.
Thou hast made me known to friends whom I knew not.
Thou hast given me seats in homes not my own.
On the seashore of endless worlds children meet.
That I want thee, only thee---let my heart repeat without end.
All desires that distract me, day and night,
Day by day I float my paper boats one by one down the running
stream.
When I go from hence
let this be my parting word,
that what I have seen is unsurpassable.
Yes, I know, this is nothing but thy love,
O beloved of my heart---this golden light that dances upon the leaves,
If thou speakest not I will fill my heart with thy silence and endure it.
Child, how happy you are sitting in the dust, playing with a broken twig all the morning.
`Prisoner, tell me, who was it that bound you?'
`It was my master,' said the prisoner.
Life of my life, I shall ever try to keep my body pure, knowing
that thy living touch is upon all my limbs.
I am like a remnant of a cloud of autumn
uselessly roaming in the sky, O my sun ever-glorious!
Early in the day it was whispered that we should sail in a boat,
In one salutation to thee, my God,
let all my senses spread out and touch this world at thy feet.
Like a rain-cloud of July
On the seashore of endless worlds children meet.
The infinite sky is motionless overhead
and the restless water is boisterous.
Deliverance is not for me in renunciation.
I feel the embrace of freedom in a thousand bonds of delight.
She who ever had remained in the depth of my being,
in the twilight of gleams and of glimpses;
The day was when I did not keep myself in readiness for thee;
and entering my heart unbidden even as one of the common crowd,
Have you not heard his silent steps?
He comes, comes, ever comes.
Every moment and every age,
I boasted among men that I had known you.
They see your pictures in all works of mine.
They come and ask me, `Who is he?'
In the night of weariness
let me give myself up to sleep without struggle,
resting my trust upon thee.
Who stole sleep from baby's eyes? I must know.
Clasping her pitcher to her waist mother went to fetch water
I only said, "When in the evening the round full moon gets
entangled among the beaches of that Dadam tree, couldn't somebody
O you shaggy-headed banyan tree standing on the bank of the pond,
have you forgotten the little chile, like the birds that have
"Where have I come from, where did you pick me up?" the baby asked
its mother.
I must launch out my boat.
The languid hours pass by on the
shore---Alas for me!
Supposing I became a chanpa flower, just for fun, and grew on a
They clamour and fight, they doubt and despair, they know no end
to their wrangling.
It is time for me to go, mother; I am going.
When in the paling darkness of the lonely dawn you stretch out
Ah, these jasmines, these white jasmines!
I seem to remember the first day when I filled my hands with
When storm-clouds rumble in the sky and June showers come down.
The moist east wind comes marching over the heath to blow its
I long to go over there to the further bank of the river.
Where those boats are tied to the bamboo poles in a line;
No more noisy, loud words from me---such is my master's will.
Henceforth I deal in whispers.
When the gong sounds ten in the morning and I walk to school by our
lane.
Every day I meet the hawker crying, "Bangles, crystal
When I bring you coloured toys, my child, I understand why there
If the day is done,
if birds sing no more,
if the wind has flagged tired,
then draw the veil of darkness thick upon me,
This is my delight,
thus to wait and watch at the wayside
where shadow chases light
Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high
Where knowledge is free
I came out alone on my way to my tryst.
But who is this that follows me in the silent dark?
