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Resources => Poetry [Public] => Topic started by: Jennifer- on June 10, 2008, 11:39:19 AM

Title: Rabindranath Tagore
Post by: Jennifer- on June 10, 2008, 11:39:19 AM

My Song
by Rabindranath Tagore

This song of mine will wind its music around you,
my child, like the fond arms of love.

The song of mine will touch your forehead
like a kiss of blessing.

When you are alone it will sit by your side and
whisper in your ear, when you are in the crowd
it will fence you about with aloofness.

My song will be like a pair of wings to your dreams,
it will transport your heart to the verge of the unknown.

It will be like the faithful star overhead
when dark night is over your road.

My song will sit in the pupils of your eyes,
and will carry your sight into the heart of things.

And when my voice is silenced in death,
my song will speak in your living heart.

Title: Re: Rabindranath Tagore
Post by: Jennifer- on June 10, 2008, 11:42:14 AM

The First Jasmines
by Rabindranath Tagore

AH, these jasmines, these white jasmines!
I seem to remember the first day when I filled my hands
with these jasmines, these white jasmines.

I have loved the sunlight, the sky and the green earth;
I have heard the liquid murmur of the river
through the darkness of midnight;
Autumn sunsets have come to me at the bend of the road
in the lonely waste, like a bride raising her veil
to accept her lover.
Yet my memory is still sweet with the first white jasmines
that I held in my hands when I was a child.

Many a glad day has come in my life,
and I have laughed with merrymakers on festival nights.

On grey mornings of rain
I have crooned many an idle song.

I have worn round my neck the evening wreath of
BAKULAS woven by the hand of love.

Yet my heart is sweet with the memory of the first fresh jasmines
that filled my hands when I was a child.

Title: Re: Rabindranath Tagore
Post by: Jennifer- on June 10, 2008, 11:51:49 AM

What is Art? It is the response of man's creative soul to the call of the Real.
Rabindranath Tagore

Title: Re: Rabindranath Tagore
Post by: Jennifer- on June 10, 2008, 11:53:19 AM

Let your life lightly dance on the edges of Time like dew on the tip of a leaf.
Rabindranath Tagore

Title: Re: Rabindranath Tagore
Post by: Michael on June 10, 2008, 11:09:09 PM

(http://www.oise.utoronto.ca/research/edu20/moments/tagore-einstein.jpg)

Title: Re: Rabindranath Tagore
Post by: erik on June 11, 2008, 12:30:07 AM

 :)

Title: Re: Rabindranath Tagore
Post by: Jennifer- on June 11, 2008, 02:55:44 AM

He who wants to do good knocks at the gate; he who loves finds the gate open.

-=-

I slept and dreamt that life was joy. I awoke and saw that life was service. I acted and behold, service was joy.

-=-

In our desire for eternal life we pray for an eternity of our habit and comfort, forgetting that immortality is in repeatedly transcending the definite forms of life in order to pursue the infinite truth of life.

-=-

In the dualism of death and life there is a harmony. We know that the life of a soul, which is finite in its expression and infinite in its principle, must go through the portals of death in its journey to realise the infinite. It is death which is monistic, it has no life in it. But life is dualistic; it has an appearance as well as truth; and death is that appearance, that maya, which is an inseparable companion to life.

-=-

In the night we stumble over things and become acutely conscious of their separateness, but the day reveals the unity which embraces them. And the man whose inner vision is bathed in consciousness at once realizes the spiritual unity which reigns over all racial differences, and his mind no longer stumbles over individual facts, accepting them as final. He realizes that peace is an inner harmony and not an outer adjustment, that beauty carries the assurance of our relationship to reality, which waits for its perfection in the response of our love.

-=-

Life is perpetually creative because it contains in itself that surplus which ever overflows the boundaries of the immediate time and space, restlessly pursuing its adventure of expression in the varied forms of self-realization.

-=-

Life, like a child, laughs, shaking its rattle of death as it runs.

-=-

That I exist is a perpetual surprise which is life.

Title: Re: Rabindranath Tagore
Post by: Jennifer- on June 11, 2008, 03:04:47 AM

The Sun of the First Day

The sun of the first day
Put the question
To the new manifestation of life-
Who are you?
There was no answer.
Years passed by.

The last sun of the last day
Uttered the question
on the shore of the western sea
In the hush of evening-
Who are you?
No answer came again.

~Rabindranath Tagore

Title: Re: Rabindranath Tagore
Post by: Jennifer- on June 11, 2008, 03:05:38 AM

Fireflies

I touch God in my song
    as the hill touches the far-away sea
      with its waterfall.
The butterfly counts not months but moments,
    and has time enough.

Let my love, like sunlight, surround you
    and yet give you illumined freedom.

Love remains a secret even when spoken,
    for only a lover truly knows that he is loved.

Emancipation from the bondage of the soil
    is no freedom for the tree.

In love I pay my endless debt to thee
    for what thou art.

~Rabindranath Tagore

Title: Re: Rabindranath Tagore
Post by: Jennifer- on June 11, 2008, 03:07:01 AM

One Day in Spring...

One day in spring, a woman came
In my lonely woods,
In the lovely form of the Beloved.
Came, to give to my songs, melodies,
To give to my dreams, sweetness.
Suddenly a wild wave
Broke over my heart's shores
And drowned all language.
To my lips no name came,
She stood beneath the tree, turned,
Glanced at my face, made sad with pain,
And with quick steps, came and sat by me.
Taking my hands in hers, she said:
'You do not know me, nor I you--
I wonder how this could be?'
I said:
'We two shall build, a bridge for ever
Between two beings, each to the other unknown,
This eager wonder is at the heart of things.'

The cry that is in my heart is also the cry of her heart;
The thread with which she binds me binds her too.
Her have I sought everywhere,
Her have I worshipped within me,
Hidden in that worship she has sought me too.
Crossing the wide oceans, she came to steal my heart.
She forgot to return, having lost her own.
Her own charms play traitor to her,
She spreads her net, knowing not
Whether she will catch or be caught.

~Rabindranath Tagore

Title: Re: Rabindranath Tagore
Post by: Jennifer- on June 11, 2008, 10:02:56 PM

(http://cache.eb.com/eb/image?id=60994&rendTypeId=4)

(http://www.pathcom.com/~ericp/Rare%20Pictures/images/rabindranath%20tagore.jpg)

(http://www.maxwell.syr.edu/hist/isuweb/rabiwrt.gif)

(http://www.sos-arsenic.net/images/tagore-boul.jpg)

(http://www.parabaas.com/rabindranath/images/pKetaki2_pic_rtle.jpg)

Title: Re: Rabindranath Tagore
Post by: Jennifer- on June 11, 2008, 10:20:59 PM

(http://www.parabaas.com/rabindranath/images/pKetaki2_pic_rtvovillaocampo.jpg)

Light, oh where is the light?
Kindle it with the burning fire of desire!
There is the lamp but never a flicker of a flame---is such thy fate, my heart?
Ah, death were better by far for thee!

Misery knocks at thy door,
and her message is that thy lord is wakeful,
and he calls thee to the love-tryst through the darkness of night.
The sky is overcast with clouds and the rain is ceaseless.

I know not what this is that stirs in me---I know not its meaning.
A moment's flash of lightning drags down a deeper gloom on my sight,
and my heart gropes for the path to where the music of the night calls me.
Light, oh where is the light!
Kindle it with the burning fire of desire!

It thunders and the wind rushes screaming through the void.
The night is black as a black stone.
Let not the hours pass by in the dark.
Kindle the lamp of love with thy life.

(http://www.sos-arsenic.net/images/tagore23-01.jpg)

(http://ignca.nic.in/images/ebru/big/bebr065a.jpg)

Title: Re: Rabindranath Tagore
Post by: Jennifer- on June 11, 2008, 10:34:48 PM

(http://www.artograph.in/images/imparto/photo/038.jpg)

Paintings by Rabindranath Tagore

(http://www.bengalirecipe.com/greenbookcafe/bengali/RabindranathTAGOREdancingwoman.gif)

(http://www.bengalirecipe.com/greenbookcafe/bengali/RabindranathTAGOREWomanPortrait.jpg)

(http://www.bengalirecipe.com/greenbookcafe/bengali/RabindranathTAGOREFlower.jpg)

(http://www.bengalirecipe.com/greenbookcafe/bengali/RabindranathTAGORESwirl.jpg)

Benediction
by Rabindranath Tagore
(This poem is from 'The Crescent Moon' by Tagore)

Bless this little heart, this white soul that has
won the kiss of heaven for our earth.

He loves the light of the sun,
he loves the sight of his mother's face.

He has not learned to despise the dust,
and to hanker after gold.

Clasp him to your heart and bless him.
He has come into this land of an hundred crossroads.

I know not how he chose you from the crowd,
came to your door, and grasped your hand
to ask his way.

He will follow you, laughing and talking,
and not a doubt in his heart.
Keep his trust, lead him straight and bless him.

Lay your hand on his head, and pray
that though the waves underneath grow threatening,
yet the breath from above may come and
fill his sails and
waft him to the heaven of peace.

Title: Re: Rabindranath Tagore
Post by: nichi on June 12, 2008, 12:41:12 AM

The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day
runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures.
It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth
in numberless blades of grass
and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers.
It is the same life that is rocked
in the ocean-cradle of birth and of death,
in ebb and in flow.
I feel my limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life.
And my pride is from the life-throb of ages dancing in my blood this moment.
Is it beyond thee to be glad with the gladness of this rhythm?
to be tossed and lost and broken in the whirl of this fearful joy?
All things rush on, they stop not, they look not behind,
no power can hold them back, they rush on.
Keeping steps with that restless, rapid music,
seasons come dancing and pass away --
colours, tunes, and perfumes pour in endless cascades
in the abounding joy that scatters and gives up and dies every moment.
That I should make much of myself and turn it on all sides,
thus casting coloured shadows on thy radiance --
such is thy maya.

~Rabindranath Tagore

Title: Re: Rabindranath Tagore
Post by: Michael on June 17, 2008, 11:22:03 PM

beautiful - he was a very unique being

Title: Re: Rabindranath Tagore
Post by: Nichi on June 14, 2010, 06:29:02 PM

Let me pray not to be sheltered from the dangers in this world but to be fearless in facing them.

Rabindranath Tagore

Title: Re: Rabindranath Tagore
Post by: Jennifer- on August 28, 2010, 11:24:37 PM

Life, like a child, laughs, shaking its rattle of death as it runs.

(http://www.sos-arsenic.net/images/tagore23-01.jpg)

He who wants to do good knocks at the gate; he who loves finds the gate open.

Title: Re: Rabindranath Tagore
Post by: Nichi on August 29, 2010, 03:06:39 AM

Wonderful!

Title: Re: Rabindranath Tagore
Post by: Nichi on January 30, 2013, 04:09:55 AM

The Lotus

On the day when the lotus bloomed, alas, my mind was straying,
and I knew it not. My basket was empty and the flower remained unheeded.

Only now and again a sadness fell upon me, and I started up from my
dream and felt a sweet trace of a strange fragrance in the south wind.

That vague sweetness made my heart ache with longing and it seemed to
me that it was the eager breath of the summer seeking for its completion.

I knew not then that it was so near, that it was mine, and that this
perfect sweetness had blossomed in the depth of my own heart.
 
Rabindranath Tagore

Title: Re: Rabindranath Tagore
Post by: Michael on April 07, 2013, 07:05:53 PM

Quote from: Nichi on January 30, 2013, 04:09:55 AM

The Lotus

On the day when the lotus bloomed, alas, my mind was straying,
and I knew it not. My basket was empty and the flower remained unheeded.

Only now and again a sadness fell upon me, and I started up from my
dream and felt a sweet trace of a strange fragrance in the south wind.

That vague sweetness made my heart ache with longing and it seemed to
me that it was the eager breath of the summer seeking for its completion.

I knew not then that it was so near, that it was mine, and that this
perfect sweetness had blossomed in the depth of my own heart.
 
Rabindranath Tagore

Spot on!

Title: Re: Rabindranath Tagore
Post by: Nichi on July 12, 2013, 11:36:23 AM

I run as a musk-deer runs
in the shadow of the forest
mad with his own perfume.
The night is the night of mid-May,
the breeze is the breeze of the south.
I lose my way and I wander,
I seek what I cannot get,
I get what I do not seek.

From my heart comes out and dances
the image of my own desire.
The gleaming vision flits on.
I try to clasp it firmly,
it eludes me and leads me astray.
I seek what I cannot get,
I get what I do not seek.

~Tagore

Title: Re: Rabindranath Tagore
Post by: Michael on July 12, 2013, 11:20:33 PM

He's surprisingly good.

Title: Re: Rabindranath Tagore
Post by: Nichi on July 22, 2013, 11:25:00 AM

I woke and found his letter with the morning.

I do not know what it says, for I cannot read.

I shall leave the wise man alone with his books, I shall not
trouble him, for who knows if he can read what the letter says.

Let me hold it to my forehead and press it to my heart.

When the night grows still and stars come out one by one I will
spread it on my lap and stay silent.

The rustling leaves will read it aloud to me, the rushing stream
will chant it, and the seven wise stars will sing it to me from
the sky.

I cannot find what I seek, I cannot understand what I would
learn; but this unread letter has lightened my burdens and turned
my thoughts into songs.


Rabindranath Tagore

Title: Re: Rabindranath Tagore
Post by: Nichi on April 02, 2014, 02:16:15 PM

"The division of days and nights is not for me, nor that of months and years. For me, the stream of time has stopped, on whose waves dances the world, like straws and twigs. In this dark cave I am alone, merged in myself, and the eternal night is still, like a mountain lake afraid of its own depth. Water oozes and drips from the cracks, and in the pool float the ancient frogs. I sit chanting the incantation of nothingness. The world's limits recede, line after line. The stars, like sparks of fire, flown from the anvil of time, are extinct; and that joy is mine which comes to the God Shiva, when, after aeons of dream, he wakes up to Find himself alone in the heart of the infinite annihilation. I am free, I am the great solitary One. When I was thy slave, O Nature, thou didst set my heart against itself, and madest it carry the Fierce war of suicide through its world. Desires, that have no other ends, but to feel upon themselves and all that comes to their mouths, lashed me into fury. I ran about, madly chasing my shadow. Thou droves me with thy lightning lashes of pleasure into the void of satiety and the hungers, who are thy decoys, ever led me into the endless famine, where food turned into dust, and drink into vapour.

Till, when my world was spotted with tears and ashes, I took my oath, that I would have revenge upon thee, interminable Appearance, mistress of endless disguises. I took shelter in the darkness, the castle of the Infinite, and fought the deceitful light, day after day, till it lost all its weapons and lay powerless at my feet. Now, when I am free of fear and desire,  when the mist has vanished, and my reason shines pure and bright, let me go out into the kingdom of lies, and sit upon its heart, untouched and unmoved."

Rabindranath Tagore, Sacrifice

Title: Re: Rabindranath Tagore
Post by: Nichi on April 05, 2014, 01:41:04 AM

The Nature Of Love

The night is black and the forest has no end;
a million people thread it in a million ways.
We have trysts to keep in the darkness, but where
or with whom - of that we are unaware.
But we have this faith - that a lifetime's bliss
will appear any minute, with a smile upon its lips.
Scents, touches, sounds, snatches of songs
brush us, pass us, give us delightful shocks.
Then peradventure there's a flash of lightning:
whomever I see that instant I fall in love with.
I call that person and cry: 'This life is blest!
for your sake such miles have I traversed!'
All those others who came close and moved off
in the darkness - I don't know if they exist or not.

Rabindranath Tagore

Title: Re: Rabindranath Tagore
Post by: Nichi on July 06, 2014, 02:06:04 PM

Truth, which is one with the Universal Being, must essentially be human, otherwise whatever we individuals realize as true can never be called truth – at least the Truth which is described as scientific and which only can be reached through the process of logic, in other words, by an organ of thoughts which is human. According to Indian Philosophy there is Brahman, the absolute Truth, which cannot be conceived by the isolation of the individual mind or described by words but can only be realized by completely merging the individual in its infinity. But such a Truth cannot belong to Science. The nature of Truth which we are discussing is an appearance – that is to say, what appears to be true to the human mind and therefore is human, and may be called maya or illusion.

~Tagore to Einstein
http://www.brainpickings.org/index.php/2012/04/27/when-einstein-met-tagore/

Title: Re: Rabindranath Tagore
Post by: Nichi on May 23, 2015, 08:45:41 AM

I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times...
In life after life, in age after age, forever.
My spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace of songs,
That you take as a gift, wear round your neck in your many forms,
In life after life, in age after age, forever. ~ Rabindranath Tagore

Title: Re: Rabindranath Tagore
Post by: Nichi on June 19, 2015, 06:13:05 AM

In rainy days
When it rains in pattering sounds
I cannot tell how I feel
So bewildered is my mind.
It seems as if someone has left
After calling and calling
And knocking at my door at night
When in rainy days
It rains in pattering sounds.
Be kind to me, my love and light up my heart
Seeing someone’s shadow in my dream
Half awake and half asleep
My eyes are filled with tears
I feel someone came to me at night
When in rainy days
It rains in pattering sounds.

(Rabindranath Tagore)

Title: Re: Rabindranath Tagore
Post by: Nichi on June 23, 2015, 04:06:21 AM

The Tame Bird Was in a Cage

The tame bird was in a cage, the free bird was in the forest.
They met when the time came, it was a decree of fate.
The free bird cries, "O my love, let us fly to the wood."
The cage bird whispers, "Come hither, let us both live in the cage."
Says the free bird, "Among bars, where is there room to spread one's wings?"
"Alas," cries the caged bird, "I should not know where to sit perched in the sky."

The free bird cries, "My darling, sing the songs of the woodlands."
The cage bird sings, "Sit by my side, I'll teach you the speech of the learned."
The forest bird cries, "No, ah no! songs can never be taught."
The cage bird says, "Alas for me, I know not the songs of the woodlands."

Their love is intense with longing, but they never can fly wing to wing.
Through the bars of the cage they look, and vain is their wish to know each other.
They flutter their wings in yearning, and sing, "Come closer, my love!"
The free bird cries, "It cannot be, I fear the closed doors of the cage."
The cage bird whispers, "Alas, my wings are powerless and dead."

from 'The Gardener '
by Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941)