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Rabindranath Tagore

Rabindranath Tagore

The Gardener: 60

Amidst the rush and roar of life, O Beauty, carved in stone, you stand mute and still, alone and aloof.
Great Time sits enamoured at your feet and murmurs:
“Speak, speak to me, my love; speak, my bride!”
But your speech is shut up in stone, O Immovable Beauty!

#IndianWriters #NobelPrize

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Altre opere di Rabindranath Tagore...
The Hero

Mother, let us imagine we are trav… strange and dangerous country. You are riding in a palanquin and… red horse. It is evening and the sun goes dow…
Lord of my Life

Thou who art the innermost Spirit… art thou pleased, Lord of my Life… For I give to thee my cup filled… the pain and delight that the crus… grapes of my heart had surrendered…
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Purity

Life of my life, I shall ever try… that thy living touch is upon all… I shall ever try to keep all untru… that thou art that truth which has… I shall ever try to drive all evil…
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Dungeon

He whom I enclose with my name is… I am ever busy building this wall… the sky day by day I lose sight of… I take pride in this great wall, a… lest a least hole should be left i…
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The Gardener: 51

Then finish the last song and let… Forget this night when the night i… Whom do I try to clasp in my arms… My eager hands press emptiness to…
 1
Stray Birds 1 - 10

STRAY birds of summer come to my… to sing and fly away. And yellow leaves of autumn, which have no songs, flutter and fall there with a sigh…
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Lover's Gifts XLIII: Dying, You Have Left Behind

Dying, you have left behind you th… in my life. You have painted my th… colours of your departure, leaving… earth to love’s heaven. Clasped in… united in me in a marriage bond.
 1
Let Me Not Forget

If it is not my portion to meet th… then let me ever feel that I have… ——let me not forget for a moment, let me carry the pangs of this sor… and in my wakeful hours.
Last Curtain

I know that the day will come when my sight of this earth shall… and life will take its leave in si… drawing the last curtain over my e… Yet stars will watch at night,
 1
I

I wonder if I know him In whose speech is my voice, In whose movement is my being, Whose skill is in my lines, Whose melody is in my songs
 1
Wheatfields Under Thunderclouds, by Vincent van Gogh
The Gardener: 30

You are the evening cloud floating… I paint you and fashion you ever w… You are my own, my own, Dweller i… Your feet are rosy-red with the gl… Your lips are bitter-sweet with th…
 2
Fireflies

My fancies are fireflies, — Specks of living light twinkling in the dark. he voice of wayside pansies, that do not attract the careless g…
 6
Lover's Gifts LIV: in the Beginning of Time

In the beginning of time, there ro… dream two women. One is the dancer… desired of men, she who laughs and… from their cold meditations and of… scatters them like seeds with care…
 1
The Beginning

“Where have I come from, where di… its mother. She answered, half crying, half la… baby to her breast— “You were hidden in my heart as it…
 1
The Gardener: 81

Why do you whisper so faintly in m… When the flowers droop in the even… Is this how you must woo and win m… Will there be no proud ceremony fo… Will you not tie up with a wreath…
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