Best Tagore Poems
It is our bard's day
The eighth of May
Nay, actually
The world’s day for the second bard
For the subtle web of light and shade
Blades of grass for our mind’s eyes
The boundless sky of our psyche
Sort of haikus from the sparks
Of pains and pleasure
Of the everyday life
In amity and strife
That Rabindranath Tagore served
In a tremendous verve
Through his lyrics and libretto
Are intense and touching to any sensitive mind
The coloured bubbles made everlasting
The supple music enchanting
And all dappled in cultured sentiments
Of sorrows and merriment
Of rain and sun
Of tales done and undone
Of days begun and gone
Every nuance finding aesthetic expression
In rhythmic dance of words and phrases
From the blue water
To our dear ledges
To be enjoyed by all perceptive intellect
And in effect
Regardless of nation and culture
Loving freedom from bondage of habits and beliefs
Relief from boredom into what is handsome
With its sun-lit door
Always open towards the river
And from there
Leading you back to the shore
___________________________
May 8, 2016, Kolkata
Have you heard the symphony, the voyage of an eternal time?
Its Chariot is the swiftest one, gone soon, gone long
Beating hearts touch the innermost mind
Darkness. wrapped in encircled mourning, befallen with the fallen, starlight.
O My Friend !
That nomadic time, a traveler one
Engulfed me again, with her embracing vest of time
Took me to her gypsy churn,
A quest toward an intrepid one.
Farther and farther away from yours.
It seems only in mind, that I escaped death
Happening in a thousand more times.
Today, the new dawn with the mountain-peak
Where , the chariot left a trace of agitated wind blower speed
With my older name.
There is no turning back
If you ponder from a distance, looking back
you will not find me as one you knew too close.
I bid you farewell, My friend!
Gitanjali 11
by Rabindranath Tagore
loose translation/modernization by Michael R. Burch
Leave this vain chanting and singing and counting of beads:
what Entity do you seek in this lonely dark temple corner with all the doors shut?
Open your eyes and see God is not here!
He is there where the tiller tills the hard ground and the paver breaks stones.
He is with them in sun and shower; his garments are filthy with dust.
Shed your immaculate mantle and like him embrace the dust!
Deliverance? Where is this "deliverance" to be found?
Our master himself has joyfully embraced the bonds of creation; he is bound with us all forever!
Cease your meditations, abandon your petals and incense!
What harm is there if your clothes become stained rags?
Meet him in the toil and the sweat of his brow!
These are modern English translations of poems by the great Indian poet Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941), who has been called the "Bard of Bengal" and "the Bengali Shelley." In 1913 Tagore became the first non-European to win the Nobel Prize in Literature. Tagore was also a notable artist, musician and polymath.
Gitanjali 35
by Rabindranath Tagore
loose translation/interpretation/modernization by Michael R. Burch
Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high;
Where knowledge is free;
Where the world has not been divided by narrow domestic walls;
Where words emerge from the depths of truth;
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection;
Where the clear stream of reason has not been lost amid the dreary desert sands of dead habit;
Where the mind is led forward into ever-widening thought and action;
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.
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today is Tagore's birthday
the first non-European
Nobel winner for literature
his sainted words a liberation
to many at the gates of wisdom
Him fountain of eternal joy from
Where life is renewed,
Ageing and life to be drained out, exit
From the world is nigh,
When suddenly comes a call from him
Above, who regulates
The flow of life through cycles of many
Births and deaths, to stop.
Suddenly sounds the drum from sky for the
Second act of play,
Life really awakens, drooping life
Joyfully responds to the call;
The wintry night desolate soon turns
Into a joyous spring day,
Undoing death, His rhythm and dance
Rejuvenates life force.
The flow of life from star to star
Follows the rhythm of his dance,
Freed from the confinement of matters
Th'Earth finds salvation;
With multitudinous fruits and grains and
Flowers of myriad hues
Her baskets of seasons are filled to the
Till and brim and all.
Thus she attains the fulfillment at the
Touch of his dancing feet,
The flow of life gushes up from death
Following incessantly
The pattern of his rhythm and dance, to the
Tune of his golden flute;
In the tornado of this violent dance,
All that is withered falls.
The triumphal arch of life is erected
Midst the joyful tunes,
And the journey of this spring meanders
Towards the fountain again.
This poem was originally written in Bengali Language by Rabeendranath Tagore. Its Bengali Title was Udbodhan. It was then translated into English by Mr. Rabeendranath Choudhury who expressed his wish that somebody from some other generation may attempt the rest so that all the English-speaking people may enjoy India's Pride. And here it is, slightly edited and recast in the true poetic form by P.S. Remesh Chandran, Editor, Sahyadri Books & Bloom Books, Trivandrum.
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I want a deer of gold I want her anyway!
No matter you are who or whatever you say!
I want her who steals my mind but then runs away!
She becomes startled, runs away, no one can capture her!
If I have chance to touch her she goes away further!
Whether I will get her or not I will chase her!
You buy the things that are available in the market!
Whereas I hanker after the thing that no one can get!
I have lost everything I had for my yearnings for her!
My capital is running short but it doesn’t matter!
I have no sorrow in my heart and I smile forever!
TAGORE ON
I just happened reading Rabindranath Tagore’ s poem called “The Gardener.”
The Gardener XL: An Unbelieving Smile
“……the dark rim of your eyes.
Then smile as archly as you like
when I come again.”
I am a Wheel, my blood flows inward
Of its spokes.
I am a Star,
My blood dissolves
In its Middle.
The Middle is without Time.
Here is where I am born.
Here the Poet letting Go:
Pollen, Sac, Belly
To more giving
Yes—
The weeks go on
And I contemplate the Gardener
Basing on cumulative
Bending, drawing in
Giving Magnificence
Back to the Universe
Stranded between Reason and Awe.
Tagore brings the World
In as Word/song.
With Black and white
His work became tight
As the freest gift
In specially the Light.
-Daniel de Cullá
Patience
by Rabindranath Tagore
loose translation/interpretation/modernization by Michael R. Burch
If you refuse to speak, I will fill my heart with your silence and endure it.
I will remain still and wait like the night through its starry vigil
with its head bent low in patience.
The morning will surely come, the darkness will vanish,
and your voice will pour down in golden streams breaking through the heavens.
Then your words will take wing in songs from each of my birds' nests,
and your melodies will break forth in flowers in all my forest groves.
Keywords/Tags: patience, Tagore, translation, Bengali, heart, heartbreak, silence, night, stars, vigil, darkness, voice, streams, heaven, birds, songs, nests, melodies, flowers, groves
He comes with pen and left with them
And he miss no pain remain
That we can mark ink to paper again
Sun of the first day
A clueless question had
On the eve of the germination of life. New.
"Who are you?"
Met no answer.
Years after years passed by,
The last sun of the day,
uttered the last question,
along the western sea shore,
twilight dusk, lost in silence,
"Who are you?"
Met no answer.
Whose footsteps are on my dusk’s broken path’s sand
There are some scattered petals of whose garland
When she came she didn’t let me know
When she left she gave the mortal blow
Who else but she makes me cry like this
Whom else but her so much now I miss
Then the sunlight was young and brighter!
My path of time was full of flower
And my world wore spring’s nice fashion wear!
I couldn’t recognize her that day
O I was home alone by the way
Today I will set out for her place
Carrying burdens of my old age!
The Seashore Gathering
by Rabindranath Tagore
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
On the seashores of endless worlds, earth's children converge.
The infinite sky is motionless, the restless waters boisterous.
On the seashores of endless worlds earth's children gather to dance with joyous cries and pirouettes.
They build sand castles and play with hollow shells.
They weave boats out of withered leaves and laughingly float them out over the vast deep.
Earth's children play gaily on the seashores of endless worlds.
They do not know, yet, how to cast nets or swim.
Divers fish for pearls and merchants sail their ships, while earth's children skip, gather pebbles and scatter them again.
They are unaware of hidden treasures, nor do they know how to cast nets, yet.
The sea surges with laughter, smiling palely on the seashore.
Death-dealing waves sing the children meaningless songs, like a mother lullabying her baby's cradle.
The sea plays with the children, smiling palely on the seashore.
On the seashores of endless worlds earth's children meet.
Tempests roam pathless skies, ships lie wrecked in uncharted waters, death wanders abroad, and still the children play.
On the seashores of endless worlds there is a great gathering of earth's children.
O my mom!
O my Bangladesh!
O my Bangladesh of Gold!
I love you mom I love you.
O my mom! Your sky and your air
Attract me like a flute-player!
O my mom!
O my Bangladesh!
O my Bangladesh of Gold!
I love you mom I love you.
O my mom!
In spring in mango gardens
I have smelt holy fragrance!
O my mom!
O my Bangladesh!
O my Bangladesh of Gold!
I love you mom I love you.
O my mom!
What have I seen in autumn?
Fields full of crops so handsome!
O my mom!
O my Bangladesh!
O my Bangladesh of Gold!
I love you mom I love you.
O the beauty and the shadow
Where my affection and love grow
Under the banyan trees and
On the shores of rivers that flow!
O my mom!
Your words are sweetest to me!
If you look pale and gloomy:
I shed tears in sympathy.
O my mom!
O my Bangladesh!
O my Bangladesh of Gold!
I love you mom I love you.
Robi Tagore’s poems:
Very easy to digest
And lots of good flavor!
This You Tube video has been created by Malabika Ray Choudhury - the original song is in Bengali, a regional language from eastern part of India - rendered by Malabika.
“My Dearest Friend, stay with me”.
Dear Friend, please stay with me
Today - when the sky is overcast with clouds..
a dark morning in the month of Shrabana,
Dearest friend, stay with me.
Were you in my dream
When I longed for my mate in the lonely nights?
My Friend, the days are passing by…in an useless manner…
Today on a stormy day
When the winds are so wild!
Please talk to me, to my heart,
Clasp my hands in yours ~
Dearest Friend, stay with me.
January 24, 2022
Translated from Gitabitan (collection Of Songs) by India's Nobel-Laureate Poet, Rabindranath Tagore
Copyright © Malabika Ray Choudhury
Notes: Shrabana is the fourth month in Bengali calendar - it's the rainy season in Bengal, Eastern part of India.