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Rabindranath Tagore

Rabindranath Tagore

The Gardener: 50

Love, my heart longs day and night for the meeting with you—for the meeting that is like all-devouring death.
Sweep me away like a storm; take everything I have; break open my sleep and plunder my dreams.  Rob me of my world.
In that devastation, in the utter nakedness of spirit, let us become one in beauty.
Alas for my vain desire!  Where is this hope for union except in thee, my God?

#Indians #IndianWriters #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury

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The Gardener: 61

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The Gardener: 74

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The Gardener: 40

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The Gardener: 73

Infinite wealth is not yours, my p… You toil to fill the mouths of you… The gift of gladness that you have… The toys that you make for your ch… You cannot satisfy all our hungry…
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The Gardener: 62

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