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Rabindranath Tagore

Rabindranath Tagore

Poems on Time

The butterfly counts not months but moments,
and has time enough.
 
Time is a wealth of change,
but the clock in its parody makes it mere change and no wealth.
 
Let your life lightly dance on the edges of Time
like dew on the tip of a leaf.

#IndianWriters #NobelPrize

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Other works by Rabindranath Tagore...
Face to Face

Day after day, O lord of my life, shall I stand before thee face to… With folded hands, O lord of all… shall I stand before thee face to… Under thy great sky in solitude an…
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The Beginning

“Where have I come from, where di… its mother. She answered, half crying, half la… baby to her breast— “You were hidden in my heart as it…
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Fairyland

If people came to know where my ki… into the air. The walls are of white silver and… The queen lives in a palace with s… wears a jewel that cost all the we…
The Boat

I must launch out my boat. The languid hours pass by on the shore——Alas for me! The spring has done its flowering… And now with the burden of faded f…
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Threshold

I was not aware of the moment when I first crossed the threshold… What was the power that made me op… like a bud in the forest at midnig… When in the morning I looked upon…
The Gardener: 84

Over the green and yellow rice-fie… The bees forget to sip their honey… The ducks in the islands of the ri… Let none go back home, brothers, t… Let us take the blue sky by storm…
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The Gardener: 44

Reverend sir, forgive this pair of sinners. Spring winds to-day are blowing in wild eddies, driving dust and dead leaves away, For we have made truce with death for once, and only for...
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.
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Ville-d’Avray, by Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot
The Gardener: 19

You walked by the riverside path w… Why did you swiftly turn your face… That gleaming look from the dark c… It came to me like the bird of the… You are hidden as a star behind th…
 1
Hermia and Lysander., by John Simmons (painter)
The Gardener: 9

When I go alone at night to my lo… It is my own anklets that grow lou… When I sit on my balcony and list… It is my own heart that beats wild… When my love comes and sits by my…
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Lover's Gifts II: Come to my Garden Walk

Come to my garden walk, my love.… press themselves on your sight. Pa… chance joy, which like a sudden wo… elude. For lover’s gift is shy, it never…
Broken Song

Kasinath the new young singer fill… The seven notes dance in his throa… His voice is a sharp sword slicing… It darts like lightening —no knowi… He sets deadly traps for himself,…
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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…
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The Course of Empire: The Arcadian or Pastoral State, by Thomas Cole
The Gardener: 17

We both live in the same village a… The yellow bird sings in their tre… Her pair of pet lambs come to graz… If they stray into our barley fiel… The name of our village is Khanju…
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Hard Times

Music is silenced, the dark descen… Has stripped unending skies of all… Weariness grips your limbs and wit… Dumbly ring the bells of hugely ga… Still, O bird, O sightless bird,
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