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Tagore's Geetanjali

  1. Geetanjali 1
  2. Geetanjali 2
  3. Geetanjali 3
  4. Geetanjali 4
  5. Geetanjali 5
  6. Geetanjali 6
  7. Geetanjali 7
  8. Geetanjali 8
  9. Geetanjali 9
  10. Geetanjali 10
  11. Geetanjali 11
  12. Geetanjali 12
  13. Geetanjali 13
  14. Geetanjali 14
  15. Geetanjali 15
  16. Geetanjali 16
  17. Geetanjali 17
  18. Geetanjali 18
     
  19. Geetanjali 19
  20. Geetanjali 20
  21. Geetanjali 21
  22. Geetanjali 22
  23. Geetanjali 23
  24. Geetanjali 24
  25. Geetanjali 25
  26. Geetanjali 26
  27. Geetanjali 27
  28. Geetanjali 28
  29. Geetanjali 29
  30. Geetanjali 30
  31. Geetanjali 31
  32. Geetanjali 32
  33. Geetanjali 33
  34. Geetanjali 34
  35. Geetanjali 35
  36. Osho on Tagore
  37. Yeat on Gitanjali
 
Song 43

The day was when I did not keep myself in readiness for thee; and entering my heart unbidden even as one of the common crowd, unknown to me, my king, thou didst press the signet of eternity upon many a fleeting moment of my life.

And today when by chance I light upon them and see thy signature, I find they have lain scattered in the dust mixed with the memory of joys and sorrows of my trivial days forgotten.

Thou didst not turn in contempt from my childish play among dust, and the steps that I heard in my playroom are the same that are echoing from star to star.

Song 44

This is my delight, thus to wait and watch at the wayside where shadow chases light and the rain comes in the wake of the summer.

Messengers, with tidings from unknown skies, greet me and speed along the road. My heart is glad within, and the breath of the passing breeze is sweet.

From dawn till dusk I sit here before my door, and I know that of a sudden the happy moment will arrive when I shall see.

In the meanwhile I smile and I sing all alone. In the meanwhile the air is filling with the perfume of promise.

Song 45

Have you not heard his silent steps? He comes, comes, ever comes.

Every moment and every age, every day
and every night he comes, comes, ever comes.

Many a song have I sung in many a mood of mind, but all their notes have always proclaimed, `He comes, comes, ever comes.'

In the fragrant days of sunny April through the forest path he comes, comes, ever comes.

In the rainy gloom of July nights on the thundering chariot of clouds he comes, comes, ever comes.

In sorrow after sorrow it is his steps that press upon my heart, and it is the golden touch of his feet that makes my joy to shine.