Tagore's Gitanjali, POEM NO. 89

NO more noisy, loud words from me ⎯ such is my master's will. 

Henceforth I deal in whispers. 

The speech of my heart will be carried on in murmurings of a song. 

Men hasten to the King's market. All the buyers and sellers are there.

But I have my untimely leave in the middle of the day, in the thick of work. 

Let then the flowers come out in my garden, though it is not their time and let the midday bees strike up their lazy hum. 

Full many an hour have I spent in the strife of the good and the evil, but now it is the pleasure of my playmate of the empty days to draw my heart on to him; 

and I know not why is this sudden call to what useless inconsequence.

Tagore's Gitanjali, POEM NO. 90

ON the day when death will knock at thy door what wilt thou offer to him? 

Oh, I will set before my guest the full vessel of my life ⎯ I will never let him go with empty hands. 

All the sweet vintage of all my autumn days and summer nights, all the earnings and gleanings of my busy life will I place before him at the close of my days when death will knock at my door. 

Tagore's Gitanjali,POEM NO. 91

O THOU the last fulfillment of life, Death, my death, come and whisper to me! 

Day after day have I kept watch for thee; for thee have I borne the joys and pangs of life. 

All that I am, that I have, that I hope and all my love have ever flowed towards thee in depth of secrecy.

One final glance from thine eyes and my life will be ever thine own. 

The flowers have been woven and the garland is ready for the bridegroom. 

After the wedding the bride shall leave her home and meet her lord alone in the solitude of night.

Tagore's Gitanjali,POEM NO. 92

I KNOW that the day will come when my sight of this earth shall be lost, and life will take its leave in silence, drawing the last curtain over my eyes. 

Yet stars will watch at night, and morning rise as before, and hours heave like sea waves casting up pleasures and pains. 

When I think of this end of my moments, the barrier of the moments breaks and I see by the light of death thy world with its careless treasures. 

Rare is its lowliest seat, rare is its meanest of lives. 

Things that I longed for in vain and things that I got ⎯ let them pass. 

Let me but truly possess the things that I ever spurned and overlooked. 

Tagore's Gitanjali,POEM NO. 93

 HAVE got my leave. Bid me farewell, my brothers! I bow to you all and take my departure. 

Here I give back the keys of my door ⎯ and I give up all claims to my house. 

I only ask for last kind words from you. 

We were neighbours for long, but I received more than I could give.

Now the day has dawned and the lamp that lit my dark corner is out. 

A summons has come and I am ready for my journey.  

Tagore's Gitanjali, POEM NO. 94

AT this time of my parting, wish me good luck, my friends! 

The sky is flushed with the dawn and my path lies beautiful. 

Ask not what I have with me to take there. 

I start on my journey with empty hands and expectant heart. 

I shall put on my wedding garland. Mine is not the red-brown dress of the traveller, and though there are dangers on the way I have no fear in my mind. 

The evening star will come out when my voyage is done and the plaintive notes of the twilight melodies be struck up from the King's gateway.


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Tagore's Gitanjali , POEM NO. 95

I WAS not aware of the moment when I first crossed the threshold of this life. 

What was the power that made me open out into this vast mystery like a bud in the forest at midnight! 

When in the morning I looked upon the light I felt in a moment that I was no stranger in this world, 

that the inscrutable without name and form had taken me in its arms in the form of my own mother. 

Even so, in death the same unknown will appear as ever known to me. 

And because I love this life, I know I shall love death as well. 

The child cries out when from the right breast the mother takes it away, in the very next moment to find in the left one its consolation.