EXTRACTS FROM TAGORE’S GITANJALI
THOU hast made me endless, such is thy pleasure. This frail vessel thou emptiest again and again, and fillest it ever with fresh life.
This
little flute of a reed thou hast carried over hills and dales and has breathed
through it melodies eternally new.
At
the immortal touch of thy hands my little heart loses its limits in joy and
gives birth to utterance ineffable.
Thy
infinite gifts come to me only on these very small hands of mine. Ages pass, and still thou pourest, and still
there is room to fill.
----
Life
of my life, I shall ever try to keep my body pure, knowing that thy living
touch is upon all my limbs.
I
shall ever try to keep all untruths out from my thoughts, knowing that thou art
that truth which had kindled the light of reason in my mind.
I
shall ever try to drive all evils away from my heart and keep my love in
flower, knowing that thou hast thy seat in the inmost shrine of my heart.
And
it shall be my endeavour to reveal thee in my actions, knowing it is thy power
gives me strength to act.
----
Here
is thy footstool and there rest thy feet where live the poorest, and lowliest,
and lost.
When
I try to bow to thee, my obeisance cannot reach down to the depth where thy
feet rest among the poorest, and lowliest, and lost.
Pride
can never approach to where thou walkest in thy clothes of the humble among the
poorest, and lowliest, and lost.
My
heart can n ever find its way to where thou keepest company with the
companionless among the poorest, the lowliest, and the lost.
-----
The
time that my journey takes is long and the way of it long.
I
came out on the chariot of the first gleam of light, and pursued my voyage
through the wilderness of worlds leaving my track on many a star and planet.
It
is the most distant course that comes nearest to thyself, and that training is
the most intricate which leads to the utter simplicity of a tune.
The
traveler has to knock at every alien door to come to his own, and one has to
wander through all the outer worlds to reach the innermost shrine at the end.
My
eyes strayed far and wide before I shut them and said ‘Here art thou!’
The
quest and the cry ‘Oh, where?’ melt into tears of a thousand streams and deluge
the world with the flood of the assurance ‘I am!”
----
The
song that I came to sing remains unsung to this day.
I
have spent my days in stringing and in unstringing my instrument.
The
time has not come true, the words have not been rightly set; only there is the
agony of wishing in my heart.
The
blossom has not opened, only the wind is sighing by.
I
have not seen his face, nor have I listened to his voice; only I have heard his
gentle footsteps from the road before my house.
The
livelong day has passed in spreading his seat on the floor; but the lamp has
not been lit and I cannot ask him into my house.
I
live in the hope of meeting with him; but this meeting is not yet.
-----
My
desires are many and my cry is pitiful, but ever didst thou save me by hard
refusals; and this strong mercy has been wrought into my life through and
through.
Day
by day thou art making me worthy of the simple, great gifts that thou gavest to
me unasked --- this sky and the light, this body and the life, and the mind ===
saving me from perils of overmuch desire.
There
are times when I languidly linger and times when I awaken and hurry in search
of my goal; but cruelly thou hidest thyself from before me.
Day
by day thou art making me worthy of thy full acceptance by refining me ever and
anon, saving me from perils of weak, uncertain desire.
-----
I
have had my invitation to this world’s festival, and thus my life has been
blessed. My eyes have seen and my ears
have heard.
It
was my part at this feast to play upon my instrument, and I have done all I
could.
Now,
I ask, has the time come at last when I may go in and see thy face and offer
thee my silent salutation?
-----
In
the deep shadows of the rainy July, with secret steps, thou walkest, silent as
night, eluding all watchers.
Today
the morning has closed its eyes, heedless of the insistent calls of the loud
east wind, and a thick veil has been drawn over the ever-wakeful blue sky.
The
woodlands have hushed their songs, and doors are all shut at every house. Thou art the solitary wayfarer in this
deserted street. Oh my only friend, my
best beloved, the gates are open in my house --- do not pass by like a dream.
Are
thou abroad on this stormy night on the 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 look out on the darkness, my friend!
I
can see nothing before me. I wonder
where lies thy path!
By
what dim shore of the ink-black river, by what far edge of the frowning forest,
through what mazy depth of gloom art thou threading thy course to come to me,
my friend?
-----
LIGHT,
oh where is the light? Kindle it with
the burning fire of desire!
There
is the lamp but never a flicker of a flame --- is such thy fate, my heart?
Ah,
death were better by far for thee!
Misery
knocks at thy door, and her message is that thy lord is wakeful, and he calls
thee to the love-tryst through the darkness of night.
They
sky is overcast with clouds and the rain is ceaseless. I know not what this is that stirs in me ---
I know not its meaning.
A
moment’s flash of lightning drags shows a deeper gloom on my sight, and my
heart gropes for the path to where the music of the night calls me.
Light,
oh where is the light! Kindle it with
the burning fire of desire! It thunders
and the wind rushes screaming through the void.
The night is black as a black stone.
Let not the hours pass by in the dark.
Kindle the lamp of love with thy life.
----
OBSTINATE
are the trammels, but my heart aches when I try to break them.
Freedom
is all I want, but to hope for it I feel ashamed.
I m
certain that priceless wealth is in thee, and that thou art my best friend, but
I have not the heart to sweep away the tinsel that fills my room.
The
shroud that covers me is a shroud of dust and death; I hate it, yet hug it in
love.
My
debts are large, my failures great; my shame secret and heavy; yet when I come
to ask for my good, I quake in fear lest my prayer be granted.
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