The Essential Works of Tagore. Rabindranath Tagore
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233
In heart's perspective the distance looms large.
234
The moon has her light all over the sky, her dark spots to herself.
235
Do not say, "It is morning," and dismiss it with a name of yesterday.
See it for the first time as a new-born child that has no name.
236
Smoke boasts to the sky, and Ashes to the earth, that they are brothers to the fire.
237
The raindrop whispered to the jasmine, "Keep me in your heart for ever."
The jasmine sighed, "Alas," and dropped to the ground.
238
Timid thoughts, do not be afraid of me.
I am a poet.
239
The dim silence of my mind seems filled with crickets' chirp—the grey twilight of sound.
240
Rockets, your insult to the stars follows yourself back to the earth.
241
Thou hast led me through my crowded travels of the day to my evening's loneliness.
I wait for its meaning through the stillness of the night.
242
This life is the crossing of a sea, where we meet in the same narrow ship.
In death we reach the shore and go to our different worlds.
243
The stream of truth flows through its channels of mistakes.
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My heart is homesick to-day for the one sweet hour across the sea of time.
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The bird-song is the echo of the morning light back from the earth.
246
"Are you too proud to kiss me?" the morning light asks the buttercup.
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"How may I sing to thee and worship, O Sun?" asked the little flower.
"By the simple silence of thy purity," answered the sun.
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Man is worse than an animal when he is an animal.
249
Dark clouds become heaven's flowers when kissed by light.
250
Let not the sword-blade mock its handle for being blunt.
251
The night's silence, like a deep lamp, is burning with the light of its milky-way.
252
Around the sunny island of Life swells day and night death's limitless song of the sea.
253
Is not this mountain like a flower, with its petals of hills, drinking the sunlight?
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The real with its meaning read wrong and emphasis misplaced is the unreal.
255
Find your beauty, my heart, from the world's movement, like the boat that has the grace of the wind and the water.
256
The eyes are not proud of their sight but of their eyeglasses.
257
I live in this little world of mine and am afraid to make it the least less. Lift me into thy world and let me have the freedom gladly to lose my all.
258
The false can never grow into truth by growing in power.
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My heart, with its lapping waves of song, longs to caress this green world of the sunny day.
260
Wayside grass, love the star, then your dreams will come out in flowers.
261
Let your music, like a sword, pierce the noise of the market to its heart.
262
The trembling leaves of this tree touch my heart like the fingers of an infant child.
263
This sadness of my soul is her bride's veil.
It waits to be lifted in the night.
264
The little flower lies in the dust.
It sought the path of the butterfly.
265
I am in the world of the roads.
The night comes. Open thy gate, thou world of the home.
266
I have sung the songs of thy day.
In the evening let me carry thy lamp through the stormy path.
267
I do not ask thee into the house.
Come into my infinite loneliness, my Lover.
268
Death belongs to life as birth does.
The walk is in the raising of the foot as in the laying of it down.
269
I have learnt the simple meaning of thy whispers in flowers and sunshine—teach me to know thy words in pain and death.
270
The night's flower was late when the morning kissed her, she shivered and sighed and dropped to the ground.
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Through the sadness of all things I hear the crooning of the Eternal Mother.