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Rabindranath Tagore Poems in English

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Rabindranath Tagore Poems

We have Rabindranath Tagore Poems for you, in which we have written a lovely poem about the beauty of Mother, which you will enjoy reading.

Rabindranath Tagore Poems

1. Let Me Not Forget

If it is not my portion to meet thee in this life
then let me ever feel that I have missed thy sight
let me not forget for a moment,

let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams
and in my wakeful hours.
As my days pass in the crowded market of this world

and my hands grow full with the daily profits,
let me ever feel that I have gained nothing
let me not forget for a moment,

let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams
and in my wakeful hours.
When I sit by the roadside, tired and panting,

when I spread my bed low in the dust,
let me ever feel that the long journey is still before me
let me not forget a moment,

let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams
and in my wakeful hours.
When my rooms have been decked out and the flutes sound

and the laughter there is loud,
let me ever feel that I have not invited thee to my house
let me not forget for a moment,

let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams
and in my wakeful hours.

2. When Day Is Done

Rabindranath Tagore Poems

If the day is done,
if birds sing no more,
if the wind has flagged tired,
then draw the veil of darkness thick upon me,
even as thou hast wrapt the earth with the coverlet of sleep
and tenderly closed the petals of the drooping lotus at dusk.

From the traveler,
whose sack of provisions is empty before the voyage is ended,
whose garment is torn and dust-laden,
whose strength is exhausted,
remove shame and poverty,
and renew his life like a flower under the cover of thy kindly night.

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3. Leave This

Leave this chanting and singing and telling of beads!
Whom dost thou worship in this lonely dark corner of a temple with doors all shut?
Open thine eyes and see thy God is not before thee!

He is there where the tiller is tilling the hard ground
and where the pathmaker is breaking stones.
He is with them in sun and in shower,
and his garment is covered with dust.
Put off thy holy mantle and even like him come down on the dusty soil!

Where is this deliverance to be found?
Our master himself has joyfully taken upon him the bonds of creation;
he is bound with us all for ever.

Come out of thy meditations and leave aside thy flowers and incense!
What harm is there if thy clothes become tattered and stained?
Meet him and stand by him in toil and in sweat of thy brow.

4. Brink Of Eternity

In desperate hope I go and search for her
in all the corners of my room;
I find her not.

My house is small
and what once has gone from it can never be regained.

But infinite is thy mansion, my lord,
and seeking her I have to come to thy door.

I stand under the golden canopy of thine evening sky
and I lift my eager eyes to thy face.

I have come to the brink of eternity from which nothing can vanish
no hope, no happiness, no vision of a face seen through tears.

Oh, dip my emptied life into that ocean,
plunge it into the deepest fullness.
Let me for once feel that lost sweet touch
in the allness of the universe.

5. One Day In Spring

One day in spring, a woman came
In my lonely woods,
In the lovely form of the Beloved.
Came, to give to my songs, melodies,
To give to my dreams, sweetness.
Suddenly a wild wave
Broke over my heart’s shores.
And drowned all language.
To my lips no name came,
She stood beneath the tree, turned,

Glanced at my face, made sad with pain,
And with quick steps, came and sat by me.
Taking my hands in hers, she said:
‘You do not know me, nor I you—
I wonder how this could be?’
I said:
‘We two shall build, a bridge for ever
Between two beings, each to the other unknown,
This eager wonder is at the heart of things.’

The cry that is in my heart is also the cry of her heart;
The thread with which she binds me binds her too.
Her have I sought everywhere,
Her have I worshipped within me,
Hidden in that worship she has sought me too.

Crossing the wide oceans, she came to steal my heart.
She forgot to return, having lost her own.
Her own charms play traitor to her,
She spreads her net, knowing not
Whether she will catch or be caught.

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6. Little Of Me

Let only that little be left of me
whereby I may name thee my all.
Let only that little be left of my will

whereby I may feel thee on every side,
and come to thee in everything,
and offer to thee my love every moment.

Let only that little be left of me
whereby I may never hide thee.
Let only that little of my fetters be left

whereby I am bound with thy will,
and thy purpose is carried out in
my life and that is the fetter of thy love.

7. 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 hast 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.

When thou commandest me to sing it seems
that my heart would break with pride;
and I look to thy face,
and tears come to my eyes.

All that is harsh and dissonant in
my life melts into one sweet harmony
and my adoration spreads wings
like a glad bird on its flight across the sea.

I know thou takest pleasure in my singing.
I know that only as a singer
I come before thy presence.

I touch by the edge of the far-spreading wing of
my song thy feet which
I could never aspire to reach.

Drunk with the joy of singing
I forget myself and call thee friend
who art my lord.

8. Friend Create an image from this poem

Rabindranath Tagore Poems

Art thou abroad on this stormy night
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 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

9. Palm Tree

Palm-tree: single-legged giant,
topping other trees,
peering at the firmament
It longs to pierce the black cloud-ceiling
and fly away, away,
if only it had wings.

The tree seems to express its wish
in the tossing of its head:
its fronds heave and swish
It thinks, Maybe my leaves are feathers,
and nothing stops me now
from rising on their flutter.

All day the fronds the windblown tree
soar and flap and shudder
as though it thinks it can fly,
As though it wanders in the skies,
travelling who knows where,
wheeling past the stars

And then as soon as the wind dies down,
the fronds subside, subside:
the mind of the tree returns.
To earth, recalls that earth is its mother:
and then it likes once more
its earthly corner.

Short Story Written by Rabindranath Tagore

10. Freedom

Freedom from fear is the freedom
I claim for you my motherland!
Freedom from the burden of the ages,

bending your head,
breaking your back,
blinding your eyes to

the beckoning call of the future;
Freedom from the shackles of
slumber wherewith.

you fasten yourself in night’s stillness,
mistrusting the star that
speaks of truth’s adventurous paths;

freedom from the anarchy of destiny
whole sails are weakly yielded to
the blind uncertain winds,

and the helm to a hand ever
rigid and cold as death.
Freedom from the insult of

dwelling in a puppet’s world,
where movements are started
through brainless wires,

repeated through mindless habits,
where figures wait with

patience and obedience for the
master of show,
to be stirred into a mimicry of life.

11. Silent Steps

Have you not heard his silent steps?
He comes, comes, ever comes.

Every moment and every age,
every day and every night he
comes, comes, ever comes.

Many a song have
I sung in many a mood of mind,
but all their notes have always proclaimed,
`He comes, comes, ever comes.’

In the fragrant days of sunny
April through the forest path he comes,
comes, ever comes.

In the rainy gloom of July nights on
the thundering chariot of clouds
he comes, comes, ever comes.

In sorrow after sorrow it is his
steps that press upon my heart,
and it is the golden touch of
his feet that makes my joy to shine.

12. The Kiss

Lips’ language to lips’ ears.
Two drinking each other’s heart, it seems.
Two roving loves who have left home,

pilgrims to the confluence of lips.
Two waves rise by the law of love
to break and die on two sets of lips.

Two wild desires craving each other
meet at last at the body’s limits.
Love’s writing a song in dainty letters,

layers of kiss calligraphy on lips.
Plucking flowers from two sets of lips

perhaps to thread them into a chain later.
This sweet union of lips is
the red marriage bed of a pair of smiles.

13. Baby’s World

I wish I could take a quiet corner in
the heart of my baby’s very
own world.

I know it has stars that talk to him,
and a sky that stoops
down to his face to amuse him with

its silly clouds and rainbows.
Those who make believe to be dumb,
and look as if they never

could move, come creeping to his
window with their stories and with
trays crowded with bright toys.

I wish I could travel by the road
that crosses baby’s mind,
and out beyond all bounds;

Where messengers run errands for no
cause between the kingdoms
of kings of no history;

Where Reason makes kites of her
laws and flies them, the Truth
sets Fact free from its fetters.

Rabindranath Tagore Poems Summary

14. On The Nature Of Love

The night is black and
the forest has no end;
a million people thread

it in a million ways.
We have trysts to keep in the darkness,
but where or with whom of

that we are unaware.
But we have this faith
that a lifetime’s bliss

will appear any minute,
with a smile upon its lips.
Scents, touches, sounds,

snatches of songs
brush us, pass us, give
us delightful shocks.

Then peradventure there’s
a flash of lightning:
whomever I see that instant

I fall in love with.
I call that person and cry:
`This life is blest!

for your sake such miles
have I traversed!’
All those others who came

close and moved off
in the darkness –
I don’t know if they exist or not.

15. Distant Time

Rabindranath Tagore Poems

I know not from what distant time
thou art ever coming nearer to meet me.
Thy sun and stars can never
keep thee hidden from me for aye.

In many a morning and eve thy
footsteps have been heard
and thy messenger has come within
my heart and called me in secret.

I know not only why today
my life is all astir,
and a feeling of tremulous
joy is passing through my heart.

It is as if the time were
come to wind up my work,
and I feel in the air a faint
smell of thy sweet presence.

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