Lover’s Gifts XIX: It Is Written In The Book (Rabindranath Tagore Poems)
It is written in the book that Man, when fifty, must leave thenoisy world, to go to the forest seclusion. ...
It is written in the book that Man, when fifty, must leave thenoisy world, to go to the forest seclusion. ...
No more noisy, loud words from me—-such is my master's will.Henceforth I deal in whispers.The speech of my heart will ...
Time is endless in thy hands, my lord.There is none to count thy minutes.Days and nights pass and ages bloom ...
Last night in the garden I offered you my youth's foaming wine. Youlifted the cup to your lips, you shut ...
On the day when the lotus bloomed, alas, my mind was straying,and I knew it not. My basket was empty ...
O thou the last fulfilment of life,Death, my death, come and whisper to me!Day after day I have kept watch ...
The 'I' that floats along the wave of time,From a distance I watch him.With the dust and the water,With the ...
The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and dayruns through the world and dances in rhythmic ...
Where is heaven? you ask me, my child,-the sages tell us it isbeyond the limits of birth and death, unswayed ...
Life of my life, I shall ever try to keep my body pure, knowingthat thy living touch is upon all ...
Day after day he comes and goesaway. Go, and give him a flower from myhair, my friend. If he asks who was ...
If the day is done,if birds sing no more,if the wind has flagged tired,then draw the veil of darkness thick ...
Come to my garden walk, my love. Pass by the fervid flowers thatpress themselves on your sight. Pass them by, ...
Peace, my heart, let the time forthe parting be sweet.Let it not be a death but completeness.Let love melt into ...
If thou speakest not I will fill my heart with thy silence and endure it.I will keep still and wait ...
On many an idle day have I grieved over lost time.But it is never lost, my lord.Thou hast taken every ...
I plucked your flower, O world!I pressed it to my heart and thethorn pricked.When the day waned and itdarkened, I ...
It is written in the book that Man, when fifty, must leave the noisy world, to go to the forest ...
Hands cling to hands and eyes linger on eyes: thus begins the record of our hearts. It is the moonlit ...
Are you a mere picture, and not as true as those stars, true as this dust? They throb with the ...
Day after day he comes and goes away. Go, and give him a flower from my hair, my friend. If ...
Where is heaven? you ask me, my child,-the sages tell us it is beyond the limits of birth and death, ...
Your questioning eyes are sad. They seek to know my meaning as the moon would fathom the sea. I have ...
I travelled the old road every day, I took my fruits to the market, my cattle to the meadows, I ...
The morning sea of silence broke into ripples of bird songs; and the flowers were all merry by the roadside; ...
I shall gladly suffer the pride of culture to die out in my house, if only in some happy future ...
On the day when the lotus bloomed, alas, my mind was straying, and I knew it not. My basket was ...
If thou speakest not I will fill my heart with thy silence and endure it. I will keep still and ...
The night was dark when she went away, and the slept. The night is dark now, and I call for ...
Life of my life, I shall ever try to keep my body pure, knowing that thy living touch is upon ...
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