Poeticous Logo
fr
English Español Français Italiano
Portrait of a Young Man, by Vincenzo Catena
Rabindranath Tagore

Rabindranath Tagore

The Gardener: 21

Why did he choose to come to my door, the wandering youth, when the day dawned?
As I come in and out I pass by him every time, and my eyes are caught by his face.
I know not if I should speak to him or keep silent.  Why did he choose to come to my door?
 
The cloudy nights in July are dark; the sky is soft blue in the autumn; the spring days are restless with the south wind.
He weaves his songs with fresh tunes every time. I turn from my work and my eyes fill with the mist.  Why did he choose to come to my door?

#IndianWriters #NobelPrize

1
Vous avez aimé cette lecture ? Offrez-nous un café !.
Votre aide nous permet d'exister.
Préféré par...
Autres oeuvres par Rabindranath Tagore...
The Gardener: Preface

Most of the lyrics of love and life, the translations of which from Bengali are published in this book, were written much earlier than the series of religious poems contained in the boo...
 1
Lover's Gifts LVI: The Evening Was Lonely

The evening was lonely for me, and… heart became dry, and it seemed to… fashioned by the traders in words.… snuffed the candle. In a moment th… moonlight.
 2
Dolly Varden, by William Powell Frith
The Gardener: 22

When she passed by me with quick s… From the unknown island of a heart… A flutter of a flitting touch brus… It fell upon my heart like a sigh…
 1
Chain of Pearls

Mother, I shall weave a chain of… with my tears of sorrow. The stars have wrought their ankle… but mine will hang upon thy breast… Wealth and fame come from thee
 1
The Lotus

On the day when the lotus bloomed,… and I knew it not. My basket was… Only now and again a sadness fell… dream and felt a sweet trace of a… That vague sweetness made my heart…
 1
Give Me Strength

This is my prayer to thee, my lord… strike at the root of penury in my… Give me the strength lightly to be… Give me the strength to make my lo… Give me the strength never to diso…
 1
 2
The Gardener: 68

None lives for ever, brother, and… Our life is not the one old burden… One sole poet has not to sing one… The flower fades and dies; but he… Brother, keep that in mind and rej…
 2
Francesco Sassetti and His Son Teodoro, by Domenico Ghirlandaioca
The Gift

I WANT TO give you something, m… Our lives will be carried apart, a… But I am not so foolish as to hop… Young is your life, your path long… You have your play and your playma…
 1
Lost Star

When the creation was new and all… splendor, the gods held their asse… `Oh, the picture of perfection! th… But one cried of a sudden ——`It seems that somewhere there i…
 1
The Gardener: 54

Where do you hurry with your baske… They all have come home with their… The echoes of the voices calling f… Where do you hurry with your baske… Sleep has laid her fingers upon th…
The Journey

The morning sea of silence broke i… and the flowers were all merry by… and the wealth of gold was scatter… while we busily went on our way an… We sang no glad songs nor played;
 3
The Gardener: 76

The fair was on before the temple.… Brighter than all the gladness of… The shrill joy of that whistle flo… An endless throng of people came a… Greater than all the troubles of t…
The Golden Boat

Clouds rumbling in the sky; teemin… I sit on the river bank, sad and a… The sheaves lie gathered, harvest… The river is swollen and fierce in… As we cut the paddy it started to…
 2
Leave This

Leave this chanting and singing an… Whom dost thou worship in this lon… Open thine eyes and see thy God i… He is there where the tiller is ti… and where the pathmaker is breakin…
 1
 2
(“I found a few old letters...”)

I found a few old letters of mine carefully hidden in thy box—a few small toys for thy memory to play with. With a timorous heart thou didst try to steal these trifles from the...



Haut