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Portrait of a Young Man, by Vincenzo Catena
Rabindranath Tagore

Rabindranath Tagore

The Gardener: 21

Why did he choose to come to my door, the wandering youth, when the day dawned?
As I come in and out I pass by him every time, and my eyes are caught by his face.
I know not if I should speak to him or keep silent.  Why did he choose to come to my door?
 
The cloudy nights in July are dark; the sky is soft blue in the autumn; the spring days are restless with the south wind.
He weaves his songs with fresh tunes every time. I turn from my work and my eyes fill with the mist.  Why did he choose to come to my door?

#IndianWriters #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury

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The Gardener: 44

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The Gardener 38

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The Gardener: 7

O mother, the young Prince is to… attend to my work this morning? Show me how to braid up my hair; t… Why do you look at me amazed, moth… I know well he will not glance up…
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Art thou abroad on this stormy nig… on thy journey of love, my friend? The sky groans like one in despair… I have no sleep tonight. Ever and again I open my door and…
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Lover's Gifts XVIII: Your Days

Your days will be full of cares, i… My house by the cross—roads has it… absent, —for I sing. I shall never be made to answer fo… your heart. If I pledge my word t…
The Gardener: 70

I remember a day in my childhood… It was a wet day of July; I was a… I floated my paper boat in the dit… Suddenly the storm clouds thickene… Rills of muddy water rushed and sw…
The Gardener: 72

With days of hard travail I raise… I forgot all else, I shunned all… It was always night inside, and li… The ceaseless smoke of incense wou… Sleepless, I carved on the walls…
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On the seashore of endless worlds… The infinite sky is motionless ove… and the restless water is boistero… On the seashore of endless worlds the children meet with shouts and…
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The Gardener: 54

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