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Rabindranath Tagore

Rabindranath Tagore

Poems on Time

The butterfly counts not months but moments,
and has time enough.
 
Time is a wealth of change,
but the clock in its parody makes it mere change and no wealth.
 
Let your life lightly dance on the edges of Time
like dew on the tip of a leaf.

#IndianWriters #NobelPrize

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Francesco Sassetti and His Son Teodoro, by Domenico Ghirlandaioca
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The Gardener: 47

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O you shaggy—headed banyan tree st… have you forgotten the little chil… nested in your branches and left y… Do you not remember how he sat at… the tangle of your roots and plung…
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The Gardener: 60

Amidst the rush and roar of life,… Great Time sits enamoured at your… “Speak, speak to me, my love; spea… But your speech is shut up in ston…
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The Gardener: 49

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