Tag Archives: Gitanjali (from Collection of Indian Poems)

Fifty Five – (‘Languor is upon your heart and the slumber is still on your eyes…’), Rabindranath Tagore, Gitanjali (from Collection of Indian Poems)


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Languor is upon your heart and the slumber is still on your eyes.
Has not the word come to you that the flower is reigning in splendour among thorns? Wake, oh awaken! Let not the time pass in vain!
At the end of the stony path, in the country of virgin solitude my friend is sitting all alone. Deceive him not. Wake, oh awaken!
What if the sky pants and trembles with the heat of the midday sun—what if the burning sand spreads its mantle of thirst—
Is there no joy in the deep of your heart? At every footfall of yours, will not the harp of the road break out in sweet music of pain?

***Rabindranath Tagore, Gitanjali (from Collection of Indian Poems)

Fifty Three-(‘Beautiful is thy wristlet,…’), Rabindranath Tagore, Gitanjali (from Collection of Indian Poems)


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Beautiful is thy wristlet, decked with stars and cunningly wrought in myriad-coloured jewels. But more beautiful to me thy sword with its curve of lightning like the outspread wings of the divine bird of Vishnu, perfectly poised in the angry red light of the sunset.
It quivers like the one last response of life in ecstasy of pain at the final stroke of death; it shines like the pure flame of being burning up earthly sense with one fierce flash.
Beautiful is thy wristlet, decked with starry gems; but thy sword, O lord of thunder, is wrought with uttermost beauty, terrible to behold or to think of.

Rabindranath Tagore, Gitanjali
(from Collection of Indian Poems)