,gitanjali ,song ,offerings by ,rabindranath ,tagore ,a collection of prose translations made by the author from the original ,bengali ,with an introduction by ,w4 ,b4 ,,yeats ,,to ,,william ,,rothenstein ,,introduction ,a few days ago ,i said to a distinguished ,bengali doctor of medicine1 8,i know no ,german1 yet if a translation of a ,german poet had moved me1 ,i would go to the ,british ,museum and find books in ,english that would tell me something of his life1 and of the history of his thought4 ,but though these prose translations from ,rabindranath ,tagore have stirred my blood as nothing has for years1 ,i shall not know anything of his life1 and of the movements of thought that have made them possible1 if some ,indian traveller will not tell me40 ,it seemed to him natural that ,i should be moved1 for he said1 8,i read ,rabindranath every day1 to read one line of his is to forget all the troubles of the world40 ,i said1 8,an ,englishman living in ,london in the reign of ,richard the ,second had he been shown translations from ,petrarch or from ,dante1 would have found no books to answer his questions1 but would have questioned some ,florentine banker or ,lombard merchant as ,i question you4 ,for all ,i know1 so abundant and simple is this poetry1 the new renaissance has been born in your country and ,i shall never know of it except by hearsay40 ,he answered1 8,we have other poets1 but none that are his equal2 we call this the epoch of ,rabindranath4 ,no poet seems to me as famous in ,europe as he is among us4 ,he is as great in music as in poetry1 and his songs are sung from the west of ,india into ,burma wherever ,bengali is spoken4 ,he was already famous at nineteen when he wrote his first novel2 and plays when he was but little older1 are still played in ,calcutta4 ,i so much admire the completeness of his life2 when he was very young he wrote much of natural objects1 he would sit all day in his garden2 from his twenty-fifth year or so to his thirty-fifth perhaps1 when he had a great sorrow1 he wrote the most beautiful love poetry in our language10 and then he said with deep emotion1 8words can never express what ,i owed at seventeen to his love poetry4 ,after that his art grew deeper1 it became religious and philosophical2 all the inspiration of mankind are in his hymns4 ,he is the first among our saints who has not refused to live1 but has spoken out of ,life itself1 and that is why we give him our love40 ,i may have changed his well-chosen words in my memory but not his thought4 8,a little while ago he was to read divine service in one of our churches--we of the ,brahma ,samaj use your word #8church' in ,english--it was the largest in ,calcutta and not only was it crowded1 but the streets were all but impassable because of the people40 ,other ,indians came to see me and their reverence for this man sounded strange in our world1 where we hide great and little things under the same veil of obvious comedy and half-serious depreciation4 ,when we were making the cathedrals had we a like reverence for our great men8 8,every morning at three--,i know1 for ,i have seen it0--one said to me1 8he sits immovable in contemplation1 and for two hours does not awake from his reverie upon the nature of ,god4 ,his father1 the ,maha ,rishi1 would sometimes sit there all through the next day2 once1 upon a river1 he fell into contemplation because of the beauty of the landscape1 and the rowers waited for eight hours before they could continue their journey40 ,he then told me of ,mr4 ,tagore's family and how for generations great men have come out of its cradles4 8,today10 he said1 8there are ,gogonendranath and ,abanindranath ,tagore1 who are artists2 and ,dwijendranath1 ,rabindranath's brother1 who is a great philosopher4 ,the squirrels come from the boughs and climb on to his knees and the birds alight upon his hands40 ,i notice in these men's thought a sense of visible beauty and meaning as though they held that doctrine of ,nietzsche that we must not believe in the moral or intellectual beauty which does not sooner or later impress itself upon physical things4 ,i said1 8,in the ,east you know how to keep a family illustrious4 ,the other day the curator of a museum pointed out to me a little dark-skinned man who was arranging their ,chinese prints and said1 8,that is the hereditary connoisseur of the ,mikado1 he is the fourteenth of his family to hold the post4'0 ,he answered1 8,when ,rabindranath was a boy he had all round him in his home literature and music40 ,i thought of the abundance1 of the simplicity of the poems1 and said1 8,in your country is there much propagandist writing1 much criticism8 ,we have to do so much1 especially in my own country1 that our minds gradually cease to be creative1 and yet we cannot help it4 ,if our life was not a continual warfare1 we would not have taste1 we would not know what is good1 we would not find hearers and readers4 ,four-fifths of our energy is spent in the quarrel with bad taste1 whether in our own minds or in the minds of others40 8,i understand10 he replied1 8we too have our propagandist writing4 ,in the villages they recite long mythological poems adapted from the ,sanskrit in the ,middle ,ages1 and they often insert passages telling the people that they must do their duties40 ,,ii ,i have carried the manuscript of these translations about with me for days1 reading it in railway trains1 or on the top of omnibuses and in restaurants1 and ,i have often had to close it lest some stranger would see how much it moved me4 ,these lyrics-- which are in the original1 my ,indians tell me1 full of subtlety of rhythm1 of untranslatable delicacies of colour1 of metrical invention--display in their thought a world ,i have dreamed of all my live long4 ,the work of a supreme culture1 they yet appear as much the growth of the common soil as the grass and the rushes4 ,a tradition1 where poetry and religion are the same thing1 has passed through the centuries1 gathering from learned and unlearned metaphor and emotion1 and carried back again to the multitude the thought of the scholar and of the noble4 ,if the civilization of ,bengal remains unbroken1 if that common mind which--as one divines--runs through all1 is not1 as with us1 broken into a dozen minds that know nothing of each other1 something even of what is most subtle in these verses will have come1 in a few generations1 to the beggar on the roads4 ,when there was but one mind in ,england1 ,chaucer wrote his ,troilus and ,cressida1 and thought he had written to be read1 or to be read out--for our time was coming on apace--he was sung by minstrels for a while4 ,rabindranath ,tagore1 like ,chaucer's forerunners1 writes music for his words1 and one understands at every moment that he is so abundant1 so spontaneous1 so daring in his passion1 so full of surprise1 because he is doing something which has never seemed strange1 unnatural1 or in need of defence4 ,these verses will not lie in little well-printed books upon ladies' tables1 who turn the pages with indolent hands that they may sigh over a life without meaning1 which is yet all they can know of life1 or be carried by students at the university to be laid aside when the work of life begins1 but1 as the generations pass1 travellers will hum them on the highway and men rowing upon the rivers4 ,lovers1 while they await one another1 shall find1 in murmuring them1 this love of ,god a magic gulf wherein their own more bitter passion may bathe and renew its youth4 ,at every moment the heart of this poet flows outward to these without derogation or condescension1 for it has known that they will understand2 and it has filled itself with the circumstance of their lives4 ,the traveller in the read-brown clothes that he wears that dust may not show upon him1 the girl searching in her bed for the petals fallen from the wreath of her royal lover1 the servant or the bride awaiting the master's home-coming in the empty house1 are images of the heart turning to ,god4 ,flowers and rivers1 the blowing of conch shells1 the heavy rain of the ,indian ,july1 or the moods of that heart in union or in separation2 and a man sitting in a boat upon a river playing lute1 like one of those figures full of mysterious meaning in a ,chinese picture1 is ,god ,himself4 ,a whole people1 a whole civilization1 immeasurably strange to us1 seems to have been taken up into this imagination2 and yet we are not moved because of its strangeness1 but because we have met our own image1 as though we had walked in ,rossetti's willow wood1 or heard1 perhaps for the first time in literature1 our voice as in a dream4 ,since the ,renaissance the writing of ,european saints--however familiar their metaphor and the general structure of their thought--has ceased to hold our attention4 ,we know that we must at last forsake the world1 and we are accustomed in moments of weariness or exaltation to consider a voluntary forsaking2 but how can we1 who have read so much poetry1 seen so many paintings1 listened to so much music1 where the cry of the flesh and the cry of the soul seems one1 forsake it harshly and rudely8 ,what have we in common with ,st4 ,bernard covering his eyes that they may not dwell upon the beauty of the lakes of ,switzerland1 or with the violent rhetoric of the ,book of ,revelations8 ,we would1 if we might1 find1 as in this book1 words full of courtesy4 8,i have got my leave4 ,bid me farewell1 my brothers6 ,i bow to you all and take my departure4 ,here ,i give back the keys of my door--and ,i give up all claims to my house4 ,i only ask for last kind words from you4 ,we were neighbours for long1 but ,i received more than ,i could give4 ,now the day has dawned and the lamp that lit my dark corner is out4 ,a summons has come and ,i am ready for my journey40 ,and it is our own mood1 when it is furthest from ,a ,kempis or ,john of the ,cross1 that cries1 8,and because ,i love this life1 ,i know ,i shall love death as well40 ,yet it is not only in our thoughts of the parting that this book fathoms all4 ,we had not known that we loved ,god1 hardly it may be that we believed in ,him2 yet looking backward upon our life we discover1 in our exploration of the pathways of woods1 in our delight in the lonely places of hills1 in that mysterious claim that we have made1 unavailingly on the woman that we have loved1 the emotion that created this insidious sweetness4 8,entering my heart unbidden even as one of the common crowd1 unknown to me1 my king1 thou didst press the signet of eternity upon many a fleeting moment40 ,this is no longer the sanctity of the cell and of the scourge2 being but a lifting up1 as it were1 into a greater intensity of the mood of the painter1 painting the dust and the sunlight1 and we go for a like voice to ,st4 ,francis and to ,william ,blake who have seemed so alien in our violent history4 ,,iii ,we write long books where no page perhaps has any quality to make writing a pleasure1 being confident in some general design1 just as we fight and make money and fill our heads with politics--all dull things in the doing--while ,mr4 ,tagore1 like the ,indian civilization itself1 has been content to discover the soul and surrender himself to its spontaneity4 ,he often seems to contrast life with that of those who have loved more after our fashion1 and have more seeming weight in the world1 and always humbly as though he were only sure his way is best for him3 8,men going home glance at me and smile and fill me with shame4 ,i sit like a beggar maid1 drawing my skirt over my face1 and when they ask me1 what it is ,i want1 ,i drop my eyes and answer them not40 ,at another time1 remembering how his life had once a different shape1 he will say1 8,many an hour ,i have spent in the strife of the good and the evil1 but now it is the pleasure of my playmate of the empty days to draw my heart on to him2 and ,i know not why this sudden call to what useless inconsequence40 ,an innocence1 a simplicity that one does not find elsewhere in literature makes the birds and the leaves seem as near to him as they are near to children1 and the changes of the seasons great events as before our thoughts had arisen between them and us4 ,at times ,i wonder if he has it from the literature of ,bengal or from religion1 and at other times1 remembering the birds alighting on his brother's hands1 ,i find pleasure in thinking it hereditary1 a mystery that was growing through the centuries like the courtesy of a ,tristan or a ,pelanore4 ,indeed1 when he is speaking of children1 so much a part of himself this quality seems1 one is not certain that he is not also speaking of the saints1 8,they build their houses with sand and they play with empty shells4 ,with withered leaves they weave their boats and smilingly float them on the vast deep4 ,children have their play on the seashore of worlds4 ,they know not how to swim1 they know not how to cast nets4 ,pearl fishers dive for pearls1 merchants sail in their ships1 while children gather pebbles and scatter them again4 ,they seek not for hidden treasures1 they know not how to cast nets40 ,w4,b4 ,,yeats ,september #aiab4 ,,gitanjali #a4 ,thou hast made me endless1 such is thy pleasure4 ,this frail vessel thou emptiest again and again1 and fillest it ever with fresh life4 ,this little flute of a reed thou hast carried over hills and dales1 and hast breathed through it melodies eternally new4 ,at the immortal touch of thy hands my little heart loses its limits in joy and gives birth to utterance ineffable4 ,thy infinite gifts come to me only on these very small hands of mine4 ,ages pass1 and still thou pourest1 and still there is room to fill4 #b4 ,when thou commandest me to sing it seems that my heart would break with pride2 and ,i look to thy face1 and tears come to my eyes4 ,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 sea4 ,i know thou takest pleasure in my singing4 ,i know that only as a singer ,i come before thy presence4 ,i touch by the edge of the far-spreading wing of my song thy feet which ,i could never aspire to reach4 ,drunk with the joy of singing ,i forget myself and call thee friend who art my lord4 #c4 ,i know not how thou singest1 my master6 ,i ever listen in silent amazement4 ,the light of thy music illumines the world4 ,the life breath of thy music runs from sky to sky4 ,the holy stream of thy music breaks through all stony obstacles and rushes on4 ,my heart longs to join in thy song1 but vainly struggles for a voice4 ,i would speak1 but speech breaks not into song1 and ,i cry out baffled4 ,ah1 thou hast made my heart captive in the endless meshes of thy music1 my master6 #d4 ,life of my life1 ,i shall ever try to keep my body pure1 knowing that thy living touch is upon all my limbs4 ,i shall ever try to keep all untruths out from my thoughts1 knowing that thou art that truth which has kindled the light of reason in my mind4 ,i shall ever try to drive all evils away from my heart and keep my love in flower1 knowing that thou hast thy seat in the inmost shrine of my heart4 ,and it shall be my endeavour to reveal thee in my actions1 knowing it is thy power gives me strength to act4 #e4 ,i ask for a moment's indulgence to sit by thy side4 ,the works that ,i have in hand ,i will finish afterwards4 ,away from the sight of thy face my heart knows no rest nor respite1 and my work becomes an endless toil in a shoreless sea of toil4 ,today the summer has come at my window with its sighs and murmurs2 and the bees are plying their minstrelsy at the court of the flowering grove4 ,now it is time to sit quite1 face to face with thee1 and to sing dedication of life in this silent and overflowing leisure4 #f4 ,pluck this little flower and take it1 delay not6 ,i fear lest it droop and drop into the dust4 ,i may not find a place in thy garland1 but honour it with a touch of pain from thy hand and pluck it4 ,i fear lest the day end before ,i am aware1 and the time of offering go by4 ,though its colour be not deep and its smell be faint1 use this flower in thy service and pluck it while there is time4 #g4 ,my song has put off her adornments4 ,she has no pride of dress and decoration4 ,ornaments would mar our union2 they would come between thee and me2 their jingling would drown thy whispers4 ,my poet's vanity dies in shame before thy sight4 ,o master poet1 ,i have sat down at thy feet4 ,only let me make my life simple and straight1 like a flute of reed for thee to fill with music4 #h4 ,the child who is decked with prince's robes and who has jewelled chains round his neck loses all pleasure in his play2 his dress hampers him at every step4 ,in fear that it may be frayed1 or stained with dust he keeps himself from the world1 and is afraid even to move4 ,mother1 it is no gain1 thy bondage of finery1 if it keep one shut off from the healthful dust of the earth1 if it rob one of the right of entrance to the great fair of common human life4 #i4 ,o ,fool1 try to carry thyself upon thy own shoulders6 ,o beggar1 to come beg at thy own door6 ,leave all thy burdens on his hands who can bear all1 and never look behind in regret4 ,thy desire at once puts out the light from the lamp it touches with its breath4 ,it is unholy--take not thy gifts through its unclean hands4 ,accept only what is offered by sacred love4 #aj4 ,here is thy footstool and there rest thy feet where live the poorest1 and lowliest1 and lost4 ,when ,i try to bow to thee1 my obeisance cannot reach down to the depth where thy feet rest among the poorest1 and lowliest1 and lost4 ,pride can never approach to where thou walkest in the clothes of the humble among the poorest1 and lowliest1 and lost4 ,my heart can never find its way to where thou keepest company with the companionless among the poorest1 the lowliest1 and the lost4 #aa4 ,leave this chanting and singing and telling of beads6 ,whom dost thou worship in this lonely dark corner of a temple with doors all shut8 ,open thine eyes and see thy ,god is not before thee6 ,he is there where the tiller is tilling the hard ground and where the pathmaker is breaking stones4 ,he is with them in sun and in shower1 and his garment is covered with dust4 ,put of thy holy mantle and even like him come down on the dusty soil6 ,deliverance8 ,where is this deliverance to be found8 ,our master himself has joyfully taken upon him the bonds of creation2 he is bound with us all for ever4 ,come out of thy meditations and leave aside thy flowers and incense6 ,what harm is there if thy clothes become tattered and stained8 ,meet him and stand by him in toil and in sweat of thy brow4 #ab4 ,the time that my journey takes is long and the way of it long4 ,i came out on the chariot of the first gleam of light1 and pursued my voyage through the wildernesses of worlds leaving my track on many a star and planet4 ,it is the most distant course that comes nearest to thyself1 and that training is the most intricate which leads to the utter simplicity of a tune4 ,the traveller has to knock at every alien door to come to his own1 and one has to wander through all the outer worlds to reach the innermost shrine at the end4 ,my eyes strayed far and wide before ,i shut them and said 8,here art thou60 ,the question and the cry 8,oh1 where80 melt into tears of a thousand streams and deluge the world with the flood of the assurance 8,i am60 #ac4 ,the song that ,i came to sing remains unsung to this day4 ,i have spent my days in stringing and in unstringing my instrument4 ,the time has not come true1 the words have not been rightly set2 only there is the agony of wishing in my heart4 ,the blossom has not opened2 only the wind is sighing by4 ,i have not seen his face1 nor have ,i listened to his voice2 only ,i have heard his gentle footsteps from the road before my house4 ,the livelong day has passed in spreading his seat on the floor2 but the lamp has not been lit and ,i cannot ask him into my house4 ,i live in the hope of meeting with him2 but this meeting is not yet4 #ad4 ,my desires are many and my cry is pitiful1 but ever didst thou save me by hard refusals2 and this strong mercy has been wrought into my life through and through4 ,day by day thou art making me worthy of the simple1 great gifts that thou gavest to me unasked--this sky and the light1 this body and the life and the mind--saving me from perils of overmuch desire4 ,there are times when ,i languidly linger and times when ,i awaken and hurry in search of my goal2 but cruelly thou hidest thyself from before me4 ,day by day thou art making me worthy of thy full acceptance by refusing me ever and anon1 saving me from perils of weak1 uncertain desire4 #ae4 ,i am here to sing thee songs4 ,in this hall of thine ,i have a corner seat4 ,in thy world ,i have no work to do2 my useless life can only break out in tunes without a purpose4 ,when the hour strikes for thy silent worship at the dark temple of midnight1 command me1 my master1 to stand before thee to sing4 ,when in the morning air the golden harp is tuned1 honour me1 commanding my presence4 #af4 ,i have had my invitation to this world's festival1 and thus my life has been blessed4 ,my eyes have seen and my ears have heard4 ,it was my part at this feast to play upon my instrument1 and ,i have done all ,i could4 ,now1 ,i ask1 has the time come at last when ,i may go in and see thy face and offer thee my silent salutation8 #ag4 ,i am only waiting for love to give myself up at last into his hands4 ,that is why it is so late and why ,i have been guilty of such omissions4 ,they come with their laws and their codes to bind me fast2 but ,i evade them ever1 for ,i am only waiting for love to give myself up at last into his hands4 ,people blame me and call me heedless2 ,i doubt not they are right in their blame4 ,the market day is over and work is all done for the busy4 ,those who came to call me in vain have gone back in anger4 ,i am only waiting for love to give myself up at last into his hands4 #ah4 ,clouds heap upon clouds and it darkens4 ,ah1 love1 why dost thou let me wait outside at the door all alone8 ,in the busy moments of the noontide work ,i am with the crowd1 but on this dark lonely day it is only for thee that ,i hope4 ,if thou showest me not thy face1 if thou leavest me wholly aside1 ,i know not how ,i am to pass these long1 rainy hours4 ,i keep gazing on the far-away gloom of the sky1 and my heart wanders wailing with the restless wind4 #ai4 ,if thou speakest not ,i will fill my heart with thy silence and endure it4 ,i will keep still and wait like the night with starry vigil and its head bent low with patience4 ,the morning will surely come1 the darkness will vanish1 and thy voice pour down in golden streams breaking through the sky4 ,then thy words will take wing in songs from every one of my birds' nests1 and thy melodies will break forth in flowers in all my forest groves4 #bj4 ,on the day when the lotus bloomed1 alas1 my mind was straying1 and ,i knew it not4 ,my basket was empty and the flower remained unheeded4 ,only now and again a sadness fell upon me1 and ,i started up from my dream and felt a sweet trace of a strange fragrance in the south wind4 ,that vague sweetness made my heart ache with longing and it seemed to me that is was the eager breath of the summer seeking for its completion4 ,i knew not then that it was so near1 that it was mine1 and that this perfect sweetness had blossomed in the depth of my own heart4 #ba4 ,i must launch out my boat4 ,the languid hours pass by on the shore--,alas for me6 ,the spring has done its flowering and taken leave4 ,and now with the burden of faded futile flowers ,i wait and linger4 ,the waves have become clamorous1 and upon the bank in the shady lane the yellow leaves flutter and fall4 ,what emptiness do you gaze upon6 ,do you not feel a thrill passing through the air with the notes of the far-away song floating from the other shore8 #bb4 ,in the deep shadows of the rainy ,july1 with secret steps1 thou walkest1 silent as night1 eluding all watchers4 ,today the morning has closed its eyes1 heedless of the insistent calls of the loud east wind1 and a thick veil has been drawn over the ever-wakeful blue sky4 ,the woodlands have hushed their songs1 and doors are all shut at every house4 ,thou art the solitary wayfarer in this deserted street4 ,oh my only friend1 my best beloved1 the gates are open in my house--do not pass by like a dream4 #bc4 ,art thou abroad on this stormy night on thy journey of love1 my friend8 ,the sky groans like one in despair4 ,i have no sleep tonight4 ,ever and again ,i open my door and look out on the darkness1 my friend6 ,i can see nothing before me4 ,i wonder where lies thy path6 ,by what dim shore of the ink-black river1 by what far edge of the frowning forest1 through what mazy depth of gloom art thou threading thy course to come to me1 my friend8 #bd4 ,if the day is done1 if birds sing no more1 if the wind has flagged tired1 then draw the veil of darkness thick upon me1 even as thou hast wrapt the earth with the coverlet of sleep and tenderly closed the petals of the drooping lotus at dusk4 ,from the traveller1 whose sack of provisions is empty before the voyage is ended1 whose garment is torn and dustladen1 whose strength is exhausted1 remove shame and poverty1 and renew his life like a flower under the cover of thy kindly night4 #be4 ,in the night of weariness let me give myself up to sleep without struggle1 resting my trust upon thee4 ,let me not force my flagging spirit into a poor preparation for thy worship4 ,it is thou who drawest the veil of night upon the tired eyes of the day to renew its sight in a fresher gladness of awakening4 #bf4 ,he came and sat by my side but ,i woke not4 ,what a cursed sleep it was1 ,o miserable me6 ,he came when the night was still2 he had his harp in his hands1 and my dreams became resonant with its melodies4 ,alas1 why are my nights all thus lost8 ,ah1 why do ,i ever miss his sight whose breath touches my sleep8 #bg4 ,light1 oh where is the light8 ,kindle it with the burning fire of desire6 ,there is the lamp but never a flicker of a flame--is such thy fate1 my heart8 ,ah1 death were better by far for thee6 ,misery knocks at thy door1 and her message is that thy lord is wakeful1 and he calls thee to the love-tryst through the darkness of night4 ,the sky is overcast with clouds and the rain is ceaseless4 ,i know not what this is that stirs in me--,i know not its meaning4 ,a moment's flash of lightning drags down a deeper gloom on my sight1 and my heart gropes for the path to where the music of the night calls me4 ,light1 oh where is the light6 ,kindle it with the burning fire of desire6 ,it thunders and the wind rushes screaming through the void4 ,the night is black as a black stone4 ,let not the hours pass by in the dark4 ,kindle the lamp of love with thy life4 #bh4 ,obstinate are the trammels1 but my heart aches when ,i try to break them4 ,freedom is all ,i want1 but to hope for it ,i feel ashamed4 ,i am certain that priceless wealth is in thee1 and that thou art my best friend1 but ,i have not the heart to sweep away the tinsel that fills my room4 ,the shroud that covers me is a shroud of dust and death2 ,i hate it1 yet hug it in love4 ,my debts are large1 my failures great1 my shame secret and heavy2 yet when ,i come to ask for my good1 ,i quake in fear lest my prayer be granted4 #bi4 ,he whom ,i enclose with my name is weeping in this dungeon4 ,i am ever busy building this wall all around2 and as this wall goes up into the sky day by day ,i lose sight of my true being in its dark shadow4 ,i take pride in this great wall1 and ,i plaster it with dust and sand lest a least hole should be left in this name2 and for all the care ,i take ,i lose sight of my true being4 #cj4 ,i came out alone on my way to my tryst4 ,but who is this that follows me in the silent dark8 ,i move aside to avoid his presence but ,i escape him not4 ,he makes the dust rise from the earth with his swagger2 he adds his loud voice to every word that ,i utter4 ,he is my own little self1 my lord1 he knows no shame2 but ,i am ashamed to come to thy door in his company4 #ca4 8,prisoner1 tell me1 who was it that bound you80 8,it was my master10 said the prisoner4 8,i thought ,i could outdo everybody in the world in wealth and power1 and ,i amassed in my own treasure-house the money due to my king4 ,when sleep overcame me ,i lay upon the bed that was for my lord1 and on waking up ,i found ,i was a prisoner in my own treasure-house40 8,prisoner1 tell me1 who was it that wrought this unbreakable chain80 8,it was ,i10 said the prisoner1 8who forged this chain very carefully4 ,i thought my invincible power would hold the world captive leaving me in a freedom undisturbed4 ,thus night and day ,i worked at the chain with huge fires and cruel hard strokes4 ,when at last the work was done and the links were complete and unbreakable1 ,i found that it held me in its grip40 #cb4 ,by all means they try to hold me secure who love me in this world4 ,but it is otherwise with thy love which is greater than theirs1 and thou keepest me free4 ,lest ,i forget them they never venture to leave me alone4 ,but day passes by after day and thou art not seen4 ,if ,i call not thee in my prayers1 if ,i keep not thee in my heart1 thy love for me still waits for my love4 #cc4 ,when it was day they came into my house and said1 8,we shall only take the smallest room here40 ,they said1 8,we shall help you in the worship of your ,god and humbly accept only our own share in his grace02 and then they took their seat in a corner and they sat quiet and meek4 ,but in the darkness of night ,i find they break into my sacred shrine1 strong and turbulent1 and snatch with unholy greed the offerings from ,god's altar4 #cd4 ,let only that little be left of me whereby ,i may name thee my all4 ,let only that little be left of my will whereby ,i may feel thee on every side1 and come to thee in everything1 and offer to thee my love every moment4 ,let only that little be left of me whereby ,i may never hide thee4 ,let only that little of my fetters be left whereby ,i am bound with thy will1 and thy purpose is carried out in my life--and that is the fetter of thy love4 #ce4 ,where the mind is without fear and the head is held high2 ,where knowledge is free2 ,where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls2 ,where words come out from the depth of truth2 ,where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection2 ,where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habit2 ,where the mind is led forward by thee into ever-widening thought and action-- ,into that heaven of freedom1 my ,father1 let my country awake4 #cf4 ,this is my prayer to thee1 my lord--strike1 strike at the root of penury in my heart4 ,give me the strength lightly to bear my joys and sorrows4 ,give me the strength to make my love fruitful in service4 ,give me the strength never to disown the poor or bend my knees before insolent might4 ,give me the strength to raise my mind high above daily trifles4 ,and give me the strength to surrender my strength to thy will with love4 #cg4 ,i thought that my voyage had come to its end at the last limit of my power1--that the path before me was closed1 that provisions were exhausted and the time come to take shelter in a silent obscurity4 ,but ,i find that thy will knows no end in me4 ,and when old words die out on the tongue1 new melodies break forth from the heart2 and where the old tracks are lost1 new country is revealed with its wonders4 #ch4 ,that ,i want thee1 only thee--let my heart repeat without end4 ,all desires that distract me1 day and night1 are false and empty to the core4 ,as the night keeps hidden in its gloom the petition for light1 even thus in the depth of my unconsciousness rings the cry--,i want thee1 only thee4 ,as the storm still seeks its end in peace when it strikes against peace with all its might1 even thus my rebellion strikes against thy love and still its cry is--,i want thee1 only thee4 #ci4 ,when the heart is hard and parched up1 come upon me with a shower of mercy4 ,when grace is lost from life1 come with a burst of song4 ,when tumultuous work raises its din on all sides shutting me out from beyond1 come to me1 my lord of silence1 with thy peace and rest4 ,when my beggarly heart sits crouched1 shut up in a corner1 break open the door1 my king1 and come with the ceremony of a king4 ,when desire blinds the mind with delusion and dust1 ,o thou holy one1 thou wakeful1 come with thy light and thy thunder4 #dj4 ,the rain has held back for days and days1 my ,god1 in my arid heart4 ,the horizon is fiercely naked--not the thinnest cover of a soft cloud1 not the vaguest hint of a distant cool shower4 ,send thy angry storm1 dark with death1 if it is thy wish1 and with lashes of lightning startle the sky from end to end4 ,but call back1 my lord1 call back this pervading silent heat1 still and keen and cruel1 burning the heart with dire despair4 ,let the cloud of grace bend low from above like the tearful look of the mother on the day of the father's wrath4 #da4 ,where dost thou stand behind them all1 my lover1 hiding thyself in the shadows8 ,they push thee and pass thee by on the dusty road1 taking thee for naught4 ,i wait here weary hours spreading my offerings for thee1 while passers-by come and take my flowers1 one by one1 and my basket is nearly empty4 ,the morning time is past1 and the noon4 ,in the shade of evening my eyes are drowsy with sleep4 ,men going home glance at me and smile and fill me with shame4 ,i sit like a beggar maid1 drawing my skirt over my face1 and when they ask me1 what it is ,i want1 ,i drop my eyes and answer them not4 ,oh1 how1 indeed1 could ,i tell them that for thee ,i wait1 and that thou hast promised to come4 ,how could ,i utter for shame that ,i keep for my dowry this poverty4 ,ah1 ,i hug this pride in the secret of my heart4 ,i sit on the grass and gaze upon the sky and dream of the sudden splendour of thy coming--all the lights ablaze1 golden pennons flying over thy car1 and they at the roadside standing agape1 when they see thee come down from thy seat to raise me from the dust1 and set at thy side this ragged beggar girl a-tremble with shame and pride1 like a creeper in a summer breeze4 ,but time glides on and still no sound of the wheels of thy chariot4 ,many a procession passes by with noise and shouts and glamour of glory4 ,is it only thou who wouldst stand in the shadow silent and behind them all8 ,and only ,i who would wait and weep and wear out my heart in vain longing8 #db4 ,early in the day it was whispered that we should sail in a boat1 only thou and ,i1 and never a soul in the world would know of this our pilgrimage to no country and to no end4 ,in that shoreless ocean1 at thy silently listening smile my songs would swell in melodies1 free as waves1 free from all bondage of words4 ,is the time not come yet8 ,are there works still to do8 ,lo1 the evening has come down upon the shore and in the fading light the seabirds come flying to their nests4 ,who knows when the chains will be off1 and the boat1 like the last glimmer of sunset1 vanish into the night8 #dc4 ,the day was when ,i did not keep myself in readiness for thee2 and entering my heart unbidden even as one of the common crowd1 unknown to me1 my king1 thou didst press the signet of eternity upon many a fleeting moment of my life4 ,and today when by chance ,i light upon them and see thy signature1 ,i find they have lain scattered in the dust mixed with the memory of joys and sorrows of my trivial days forgotten4 ,thou didst not turn in contempt from my childish play among dust1 and the steps that ,i heard in my playroom are the same that are echoing from star to star4 #dd4 ,this is my delight1 thus to wait and watch at the wayside where shadow chases light and the rain comes in the wake of the summer4 ,messengers1 with tidings from unknown skies1 greet me and speed along the road4 ,my heart is glad within1 and the breath of the passing breeze is sweet4 ,from dawn till dusk ,i sit here before my door1 and ,i know that of a sudden the happy moment will arrive when ,i shall see4 ,in the meanwhile ,i smile and ,i sing all alone4 ,in the meanwhile the air is filling with the perfume of promise4 #de4 ,have you not heard his silent steps8 ,he comes1 comes1 ever comes4 ,every moment and every age1 every day and every night he comes1 comes1 ever comes4 ,many a song have ,i sung in many a mood of mind1 but all their notes have always proclaimed1 8,he comes1 comes1 ever comes40 ,in the fragrant days of sunny ,april through the forest path he comes1 comes1 ever comes4 ,in the rainy gloom of ,july nights on the thundering chariot of clouds he comes1 comes1 ever comes4 ,in sorrow after sorrow it is his steps that press upon my heart1 and it is the golden touch of his feet that makes my joy to shine4 #df4 ,i know not from what distant time thou art ever coming nearer to meet me4 ,thy sun and stars can never keep thee hidden from me for aye4 ,in many a morning and eve thy footsteps have been heard and thy messenger has come within my heart and called me in secret4 ,i know not only why today my life is all astir1 and a feeling of tremulous joy is passing through my heart4 ,it is as if the time were come to wind up my work1 and ,i feel in the air a faint smell of thy sweet presence4 #dg4 ,the night is nearly spent waiting for him in vain4 ,i fear lest in the morning he suddenly come to my door when ,i have fallen asleep wearied out4 ,oh friends1 leave the way open to him-- forbid him not4 ,if the sounds of his steps does not wake me1 do not try to rouse me1 ,i pray4 ,i wish not to be called from my sleep by the clamorous choir of birds1 by the riot of wind at the festival of morning light4 ,let me sleep undisturbed even if my lord comes of a sudden to my door4 ,ah1 my sleep1 precious sleep1 which only waits for his touch to vanish4 ,ah1 my closed eyes that would open their lids only to the light of his smile when he stands before me like a dream emerging from darkness of sleep4 ,let him appear before my sight as the first of all lights and all forms4 ,the first thrill of joy to my awakened soul let it come from his glance4 ,and let my return to myself be immediate return to him4 #dh4 ,the morning sea of silence broke into ripples of bird songs2 and the flowers were all merry by the roadside2 and the wealth of gold was scattered through the rift of the clouds while we busily went on our way and paid no heed4 ,we sang no glad songs nor played2 we went not to the village for barter2 we spoke not a word nor smiled2 we lingered not on the way4 ,we quickened our pace more and more as the time sped by4 ,the sun rose to the mid sky and doves cooed in the shade4 ,withered leaves danced and whirled in the hot air of noon4 ,the shepherd boy drowsed and dreamed in the shadow of the banyan tree1 and ,i laid myself down by the water and stretched my tired limbs on the grass4 ,my companions laughed at me in scorn2 they held their heads high and hurried on2 they never looked back nor rested2 they vanished in the distant blue haze4 ,they crossed many meadows and hills1 and passed through strange1 far-away countries4 ,all honour to you1 heroic host of the interminable path6 ,mockery and reproach pricked me to rise1 but found no response in me4 ,i gave myself up for lost in the depth of a glad humiliation--in the shadow of a dim delight4 ,the repose of the sun-embroidered green gloom slowly spread over my heart4 ,i forgot for what ,i had travelled1 and ,i surrendered my mind without struggle to the maze of shadows and songs4 ,at last1 when ,i woke from my slumber and opened my eyes1 ,i saw thee standing by me1 flooding my sleep with thy smile4 ,how ,i had feared that the path was long and wearisome1 and the struggle to reach thee was hard6 #di4 ,you came down from your throne and stood at my cottage door4 ,i was singing all alone in a corner1 and the melody caught your ear4 ,you came down and stood at my cottage door4 ,masters are many in your hall1 and songs are sung there at all hours4 ,but the simple carol of this novice struck at your love4 ,one plaintive little strain mingled with the great music of the world1 and with a flower for a prize you came down and stopped at my cottage door4 #ej4 ,i had gone a-begging from door to door in the village path1 when thy golden chariot appeared in the distance like a gorgeous dream and ,i wondered who was this ,king of all kings6 ,my hopes rose high and methought my evil days were at an end1 and ,i stood waiting for alms to be given unasked and for wealth scattered on all sides in the dust4 ,the chariot stopped where ,i stood4 ,thy glance fell on me and thou camest down with a smile4 ,i felt that the luck of my life had come at last4 ,then of a sudden thou didst hold out thy right hand and say 8,what hast thou to give to me80 ,ah1 what a kingly jest was it to open thy palm to a beggar to beg6 ,i was confused and stood undecided1 and then from my wallet ,i slowly took out the least little grain of corn and gave it to thee4 ,but how great my surprise when at the day's end ,i emptied my bag on the floor to find a least little gram of gold among the poor heap4 ,i bitterly wept and wished that ,i had had the heart to give thee my all4 #ea4 ,the night darkened4 ,our day's works had been done4 ,we thought that the last guest had arrived for the night and the doors in the village were all shut4 ,only some said the king was to come4 ,we laughed and said 8,no1 it cannot be60 ,it seemed there were knocks at the door and we said it was nothing but the wind4 ,we put out the lamps and lay down to sleep4 ,only some said1 8,it is the messenger60 ,we laughed and said 8,no1 it must be the wind60 ,there came a sound in the dead of the night4 ,we sleepily thought it was the distant thunder4 ,the earth shook1 the walls rocked1 and it troubled us in our sleep4 ,only some said it was the sound of wheels4 ,we said in a drowsy murmur1 8,no1 it must be the rumbling of clouds60 ,the night was still dark when the drum sounded4 ,the voice came 8,wake up6 delay not60 ,we pressed our hands on our hearts and shuddered with fear4 ,some said1 8,lo1 there is the king's flag60 ,we stood up on our feet and cried 8,there is no time for delay60 ,the king has come--but where are lights1 where are wreaths8 ,where is the throne to seat him8 ,oh1 shame6 ,oh utter shame6 ,where is the hall1 the decorations8 ,someone has said1 8,vain is this cry6 ,greet him with empty hands1 lead him into thy rooms all bare60 ,open the doors1 let the conch-shells be sounded6 in the depth of the night has come the king of our dark1 dreary house4 ,the thunder roars in the sky4 ,the darkness shudders with lightning4 ,bring out thy tattered piece of mat and spread it in the courtyard4 ,with the storm has come of a sudden our king of the fearful night4 #eb4 ,i thought ,i should ask of thee--but ,i dared not--the rose wreath thou hadst on thy neck4 ,thus ,i waited for the morning1 when thou didst depart1 to find a few fragments on the bed4 ,and like a beggar ,i searched in the dawn only for a stray petal or two4 ,ah me1 what is it ,i find8 ,what token left of thy love8 ,it is no flower1 no spices1 no vase of perfumed water4 ,it is thy mighty sword1 flashing as a flame1 heavy as a bolt of thunder4 ,the young light of morning comes through the window and spreads itself upon thy bed4 ,the morning bird twitters and asks1 8,woman1 what hast thou got80 ,no1 it is no flower1 nor spices1 nor vase of perfumed water--it is thy dreadful sword4 ,i sit and muse in wonder1 what gift is this of thine4 ,i can find no place to hide it4 ,i am ashamed to wear it1 frail as ,i am1 and it hurts me when ,i press it to my bosom4 ,yet shall ,i bear in my heart this honour of the burden of pain1 this gift of thine4 ,from now there shall be no fear left for me in this world1 and thou shalt be victorious in all my strife4 ,thou hast left death for my companion and ,i shall crown him with my life4 ,thy sword is with me to cut asunder my bonds1 and there shall be no fear left for me in the world4 ,from now ,i leave off all petty decorations4 ,lord of my heart1 no more shall there be for me waiting and weeping in corners1 no more coyness and sweetness of demeanour4 ,thou hast given me thy sword for adornment4 ,no more doll's decorations for me6 #ec4 ,beautiful is thy wristlet1 decked with stars and cunningly wrought in myriad-coloured jewels4 ,but more beautiful to me thy sword with its curve of lightning like the outspread wings of the divine bird of ,vishnu1 perfectly poised in the angry red light of the sunset4 ,it quivers like the one last response of life in ecstasy of pain at the final stroke of death2 it shines like the pure flame of being burning up earthly sense with one fierce flash4 ,beautiful is thy wristlet1 decked with starry gems2 but thy sword1 ,o lord of thunder1 is wrought with uttermost beauty1 terrible to behold or think of4 #ed4 ,i asked nothing from thee2 ,i uttered not my name to thine ear4 ,when thou took'st thy leave ,i stood silent4 ,i was alone by the well where the shadow of the tree fell aslant1 and the women had gone home with their brown earthen pitchers full to the brim4 ,they called me and shouted1 8,come with us1 the morning is wearing on to noon40 ,but ,i languidly lingered awhile lost in the midst of vague musings4 ,i heard not thy steps as thou camest4 ,thine eyes were sad when they fell on me2 thy voice was tired as thou spokest low--8,ah1 ,i am a thirsty traveller40 ,i started up from my day-dreams and poured water from my jar on thy joined palms4 ,the leaves rustled overhead2 the cuckoo sang from the unseen dark1 and perfume of babla flowers came from the bend of the road4 ,i stood speechless with shame when my name thou didst ask4 ,indeed1 what had ,i done for thee to keep me in remembrance8 ,but the memory that ,i could give water to thee to allay thy thirst will cling to my heart and enfold it in sweetness4 ,the morning hour is late1 the bird sings in weary notes1 neem leaves rustle overhead and ,i sit and think and think4 #ee4 ,languor is upon your heart and the slumber is still on your eyes4 ,has not the word come to you that the flower is reigning in splendour among thorns8 ,wake1 oh awaken6 let not the time pass in vain6 ,at the end of the stony path1 in the country of virgin solitude1 my friend is sitting all alone4 ,deceive him not4 ,wake1 oh awaken6 ,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 heart8 ,at every footfall of yours1 will not the harp of the road break out in sweet music of pain8 #ef4 ,thus it is that thy joy in me is so full4 ,thus it is that thou hast come down to me4 ,o thou lord of all heavens1 where would be thy love if ,i were not8 ,thou hast taken me as thy partner of all this wealth4 ,in my heart is the endless play of thy delight4 ,in my life thy will is ever taking shape4 ,and for this1 thou who art the ,king of kings hast decked thyself in beauty to captivate my heart4 ,and for this thy love loses itself in the love of thy lover1 and there art thou seen in the perfect union of two4 #eg4 ,light1 my light1 the world-filling light1 the eye-kissing light1 heart-sweetening light6 ,ah1 the light dances1 my darling1 at the centre of my life2 the light strikes1 my darling1 the chords of my love2 the sky opens1 the wind runs wild1 laughter passes over the earth4 ,the butterflies spread their sails on the sea of light4 ,lilies and jasmines surge up on the crest of the waves of light4 ,the light is shattered into gold on every cloud1 my darling1 and it scatters gems in profusion4 ,mirth spreads from leaf to leaf1 my darling1 and gladness without measure4 ,the heaven's river has drowned its banks and the flood of joy is abroad4 #eh4 ,let all the strains of joy mingle in my last song--the joy that makes the earth flow over in the riotous excess of the grass1 the joy that sets the twin brothers1 life and death1 dancing over the wide world1 the joy that sweeps in with the tempest1 shaking and waking all life with laughter1 the joy that sits still with its tears on the open red lotus of pain1 and the joy that throws everything it has upon the dust1 and knows not a word4 #ei4 ,yes1 ,i know1 this is nothing but thy love1 ,o beloved of my heart-- this golden light that dances upon the leaves1 these idle clouds sailing across the sky1 this passing breeze leaving its coolness upon my forehead4 ,the morning light has flooded my eyes--this is thy message to my heart4 ,thy face is bent from above1 thy eyes look down on my eyes1 and my heart has touched thy feet4 #fj4 ,on the seashore of endless worlds children meet4 ,the infinite sky is motionless overhead and the restless water is boisterous4 ,on the seashore of endless worlds the children meet with shouts and dances4 ,they build their houses with sand and they play with empty shells4 ,with withered leaves they weave their boats and smilingly float them on the vast deep4 ,children have their play on the seashore of worlds4 ,they know not how to swim1 they know not how to cast nets4 ,pearl fishers dive for pearls1 merchants sail in their ships1 while children gather pebbles and scatter them again4 ,they seek not for hidden treasures1 they know not how to cast nets4 ,the sea surges up with laughter and pale gleams the smile of the sea beach4 ,death-dealing waves sing meaningless ballads to the children1 even like a mother while rocking her baby's cradle4 ,the sea plays with children1 and pale gleams the smile of the sea beach4 ,on the seashore of endless worlds children meet4 ,tempest roams in the pathless sky1 ships get wrecked in the trackless water1 death is abroad and children play4 ,on the seashore of endless worlds is the great meeting of children4 #fa4 ,the sleep that flits on baby's eyes--does anybody know from where it comes8 ,yes1 there is a rumour that it has its dwelling there1 in the fairy village among shadows of the forest dimly lit with glow-worms1 there hang two timid buds of enchantment4 ,from there it comes to kiss baby's eyes4 ,the smile that flickers on baby's lips when he sleeps--does anybody know where it was born8 ,yes1 there is a rumour that a young pale beam of a crescent moon touched the edge of a vanishing autumn cloud1 and there the smile was first born in the dream of a dew-washed morning--the smile that flickers on baby's lips when he sleeps4 ,the sweet1 soft freshness that blooms on baby's limbs--does anybody know where it was hidden so long8 ,yes1 when the mother was a young girl it lay pervading her heart in tender and silent mystery of love--the sweet1 soft freshness that has bloomed on baby's limbs4 #fb4 ,when ,i bring to you coloured toys1 my child1 ,i understand why there is such a play of colours on clouds1 on water1 and why flowers are painted in tints--when ,i give coloured toys to you1 my child4 ,when ,i sing to make you dance ,i truly now why there is music in leaves1 and why waves send their chorus of voices to the heart of the listening earth--when ,i sing to make you dance4 ,when ,i bring sweet things to your greedy hands ,i know why there is honey in the cup of the flowers and why fruits are secretly filled with sweet juice--when ,i bring sweet things to your greedy hands4 ,when ,i kiss your face to make you smile1 my darling1 ,i surely understand what pleasure streams from the sky in morning light1 and what delight that is that is which the summer breeze brings to my body--when ,i kiss you to make you smile4 #fc4 ,thou hast made me known to friends whom ,i knew not4 ,thou hast given me seats in homes not my own4 ,thou hast brought the distant near and made a brother of the stranger4 ,i am uneasy at heart when ,i have to leave my accustomed shelter2 ,i forget that there abides the old in the new1 and that there also thou abidest4 ,through birth and death1 in this world or in others1 wherever thou leadest me it is thou1 the same1 the one companion of my endless life who ever linkest my heart with bonds of joy to the unfamiliar4 ,when one knows thee1 then alien there is none1 then no door is shut4 ,oh1 grant me my prayer that ,i may never lose the bliss of the touch of the one in the play of many4 #fd4 ,on the slope of the desolate river among tall grasses ,i asked her1 8,maiden1 where do you go shading your lamp with your mantle8 ,my house is all dark and lonesome--lend me your light60 she raised her dark eyes for a moment and looked at my face through the dusk4 8,i have come to the river10 she said1 8to float my lamp on the stream when the daylight wanes in the west40 ,i stood alone among tall grasses and watched the timid flame of her lamp uselessly drifting in the tide4 ,in the silence of gathering night ,i asked her1 8,maiden1 your lights are all lit--then where do you go with your lamp8 ,my house is all dark and lonesome--lend me your light40 ,she raised her dark eyes on my face and stood for a moment doubtful4 8,i have come10 she said at last1 8to dedicate my lamp to the sky40 ,i stood and watched her light uselessly burning in the void4 ,in the moonless gloom of midnight ,i ask her1 8,maiden1 what is your quest1 holding the lamp near your heart8 ,my house is all dark and lonesome--lend me your light40 ,she stopped for a minute and thought and gazed at my face in the dark4 8,i have brought my light10 she said1 8to join the carnival of lamps40 ,i stood and watched her little lamp uselessly lost among lights4 #fe4 ,what divine drink wouldst thou have1 my ,god1 from this overflowing cup of my life8 ,my poet1 is it thy delight to see thy creation through my eyes and to stand at the portals of my ears silently to listen to thine own eternal harmony8 ,thy world is weaving words in my mind and thy joy is adding music to them4 ,thou givest thyself to me in love and then feelest thine own entire sweetness in me4 #ff4 ,she who ever had remained in the depth of my being1 in the twilight of gleams and of glimpses2 she who never opened her veils in the morning light1 will be my last gift to thee1 my ,god1 folded in my final song4 ,words have wooed yet failed to win her2 persuasion has stretched to her its eager arms in vain4 ,i have roamed from country to country keeping her in the core of my heart1 and around her have risen and fallen the growth and decay of my life4 ,over my thoughts and actions1 my slumbers and dreams1 she reigned yet dwelled alone and apart4 ,many a man knocked at my door and asked for her and turned away in despair4 ,there was none in the world who ever saw her face to face1 and she remained in her loneliness waiting for thy recognition4 #fg4 ,thou art the sky and thou art the nest as well4 ,o thou beautiful1 there in the nest is thy love that encloses the soul with colours and sounds and odours4 ,there comes the morning with the golden basket in her right hand bearing the wreath of beauty1 silently to crown the earth4 ,and there comes the evening over the lonely meadows deserted by herds1 through trackless paths1 carrying cool draughts of peace in her golden pitcher from the western ocean of rest4 ,but there1 where spreads the infinite sky for the soul to take her flight in1 reigns the stainless white radiance4 ,there is no day nor night1 nor form nor colour1 and never1 never a word4 #fh4 ,thy sunbeam comes upon this earth of mine with arms outstretched and stands at my door the livelong day to carry back to thy feet clouds made of my tears and sighs and songs4 ,with fond delight thou wrappest about thy starry breast that mantle of misty cloud1 turning it into numberless shapes and folds and colouring it with hues everchanging4 ,it is so light and so fleeting1 tender and tearful and dark1 that is why thou lovest it1 ,o thou spotless and serene4 ,and that is why it may cover thy awful white light with its pathetic shadows4 #fi4 ,the same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures4 ,it is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth in numberless blades of grass and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers4 ,it is the same life that is rocked in the ocean-cradle of birth and of death1 in ebb and in flow4 ,i feel my limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life4 ,and my pride is from the life-throb of ages dancing in my blood this moment4 #gj4 ,is it beyond thee to be glad with the gladness of this rhythm8 to be tossed and lost and broken in the whirl of this fearful joy8 ,all things rush on1 they stop not1 they look not behind1 no power can hold them back1 they rush on4 ,keeping steps with that restless1 rapid music1 seasons come dancing and pass away--colours1 tunes1 and perfumes pour in endless cascades in the abounding joy that scatters and gives up and dies every moment4 #ga4 ,that ,i should make much of myself and turn it on all sides1 thus casting coloured shadows on thy radiance--such is thy maya4 ,thou settest a barrier in thine own being and then callest thy severed self in myriad notes4 ,this thy self-separation has taken body in me4 ,the poignant song is echoed through all the sky in many-coloured tears and smiles1 alarms and hopes2 waves rise up and sink again1 dreams break and form4 ,in me is thy own defeat of self4 ,this screen that thou hast raised is painted with innumerable figures with the brush of the night and the day4 ,behind it thy seat is woven in wondrous mysteries of curves1 casting away all barren lines of straightness4 ,the great pageant of thee and me has overspread the sky4 ,with the tune of thee and me all the air is vibrant1 and all ages pass with the hiding and seeking of thee and me4 #gb4 ,he it is1 the innermost one1 who awakens my being with his deep hidden touches4 ,he it is who puts his enchantment upon these eyes and joyfully plays on the chords of my heart in varied cadence of pleasure and pain4 ,he it is who weaves the web of this maya in evanescent hues of gold and silver1 blue and green1 and lets peep out through the folds his feet1 at whose touch ,i forget myself4 ,days come and ages pass1 and it is ever he who moves my heart in many a name1 in many a guise1 in many a rapture of joy and of sorrow4 #gc4 ,deliverance is not for me in renunciation4 ,i feel the embrace of freedom in a thousand bonds of delight4 ,thou ever pourest for me the fresh draught of thy wine of various colours and fragrance1 filling this earthen vessel to the brim4 ,my world will light its hundred different lamps with thy flame and place them before the altar of thy temple4 ,no1 ,i will never shut the doors of my senses4 ,the delights of sight and hearing and touch will bear thy delight4 ,yes1 all my illusions will burn into illumination of joy1 and all my desires ripen into fruits of love4 #gd4 ,the day is no more1 the shadow is upon the earth4 ,it is time that ,i go to the stream to fill my pitcher4 ,the evening air is eager with the sad music of the water4 ,ah1 it calls me out into the dusk4 ,in the lonely lane there is no passer-by1 the wind is up1 the ripples are rampant in the river4 ,i know not if ,i shall come back home4 ,i know not whom ,i shall chance to meet4 ,there at the fording in the little boat the unknown man plays upon his lute4 #ge4 ,thy gifts to us mortals fulfil all our needs and yet run back to thee undiminished4 ,the river has its everyday work to do and hastens through fields and hamlets2 yet its incessant stream winds towards the washing of thy feet4 ,the flower sweetens the air with its perfume2 yet its last service is to offer itself to thee4 ,thy worship does not impoverish the world4 ,from the words of the poet men take what meanings please them2 yet their last meaning points to thee4 #gf4 ,day after day1 ,o lord of my life1 shall ,i stand before thee face to face4 ,with folded hands1 ,o lord of all worlds1 shall ,i stand before thee face to face4 ,under thy great sky in solitude and silence1 with humble heart shall ,i stand before thee face to face4 ,in this laborious world of thine1 tumultuous with toil and with struggle1 among hurrying crowds shall ,i stand before thee face to face4 ,and when my work shall be done in this world1 ,o ,king of kings1 alone and speechless shall ,i stand before thee face to face4 #gg4 ,i know thee as my ,god and stand apart--,i do not know thee as my own and come closer4 ,i know thee as my father and bow before thy feet--,i do not grasp thy hand as my friend's4 ,i stand not where thou comest down and ownest thyself as mine1 there to clasp thee to my heart and take thee as my comrade4 ,thou art the ,brother amongst my brothers1 but ,i heed them not1 ,i divide not my earnings with them1 thus sharing my all with thee4 ,in pleasure and in pain ,i stand not by the side of men1 and thus stand by thee4 ,i shrink to give up my life1 and thus do not plunge into the great waters of life4 #gh4 ,when the creation was new and all the stars shone in their first splendour1 the gods held their assembly in the sky and sang 8,oh1 the picture of perfection6 the joy unalloyed60 ,but one cried of a sudden--8,it seems that somewhere there is a break in the chain of light and one of the stars has been lost40 ,the golden string of their harp snapped1 their song stopped1 and they cried in dismay--8,yes1 that lost star was the best1 she was the glory of all heavens60 ,from that day the search is unceasing for her1 and the cry goes on from one to the other that in her the world has lost its one joy6 ,only in the deepest silence of night the stars smile and whisper among themselves--8,vain is this seeking6 unbroken perfection is over all60 #gi4 ,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 moment1 let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams and in my wakeful hours4 ,as my days pass in the crowded market of this world and my hands grow full with the daily profits1 let me ever feel that ,i have gained nothing--let me not forget for a moment1 let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams and in my wakeful hours4 ,when ,i sit by the roadside1 tired and panting1 when ,i spread my bed low in the dust1 let me ever feel that the long journey is still before me--let me not forget a moment1 let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams and in my wakeful hours4 ,when my rooms have been decked out and the flutes sound and the laughter there is loud1 let me ever feel that ,i have not invited thee to my house--let me not forget for a moment1 let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams and in my wakeful hours4 #hj4 ,i am like a remnant of a cloud of autumn uselessly roaming in the sky1 ,o my sun ever-glorious6 ,thy touch has not yet melted my vapour1 making me one with thy light1 and thus ,i count months and years separated from thee4 ,if this be thy wish and if this be thy play1 then take this fleeting emptiness of mine1 paint it with colours1 gild it with gold1 float it on the wanton wind and spread it in varied wonders4 ,and again when it shall be thy wish to end this play at night1 ,i shall melt and vanish away in the dark1 or it may be in a smile of the white morning1 in a coolness of purity transparent4 #ha4 ,on many an idle day have ,i grieved over lost time4 ,but it is never lost1 my lord4 ,thou hast taken every moment of my life in thine own hands4 ,hidden in the heart of things thou art nourishing seeds into sprouts1 buds into blossoms1 and ripening flowers into fruitfulness4 ,i was tired and sleeping on my idle bed and imagined all work had ceased4 ,in the morning ,i woke up and found my garden full with wonders of flowers4 #hb4 ,time is endless in thy hands1 my lord4 ,there is none to count thy minutes4 ,days and nights pass and ages bloom and fade like flowers4 ,thou knowest how to wait4 ,thy centuries follow each other perfecting a small wild flower4 ,we have no time to lose1 and having no time we must scramble for a chances4 ,we are too poor to be late4 ,and thus it is that time goes by while ,i give it to every querulous man who claims it1 and thine altar is empty of all offerings to the last4 ,at the end of the day ,i hasten in fear lest thy gate to be shut2 but ,i find that yet there is time4 #hc4 ,mother1 ,i shall weave a chain of pearls for thy neck with my tears of sorrow4 ,the stars have wrought their anklets of light to deck thy feet1 but mine will hang upon thy breast4 ,wealth and fame come from thee and it is for thee to give or to withhold them4 ,but this my sorrow is absolutely mine own1 and when ,i bring it to thee as my offering thou rewardest me with thy grace4 #hd4 ,it is the pang of separation that spreads throughout the world and gives birth to shapes innumerable in the infinite sky4 ,it is this sorrow of separation that gazes in silence all nights from star to star and becomes lyric among rustling leaves in rainy darkness of ,july4 ,it is this overspreading pain that deepens into loves and desires1 into sufferings and joy in human homes2 and this it is that ever melts and flows in songs through my poet's heart4 #he4 ,when the warriors came out first from their master's hall1 where had they hid their power8 ,where were their armour and their arms8 ,they looked poor and helpless1 and the arrows were showered upon them on the day they came out from their master's hall4 ,when the warriors marched back again to their master's hall where did they hide their power8 ,they had dropped the sword and dropped the bow and the arrow2 peace was on their foreheads1 and they had left the fruits of their life behind them on the day they marched back again to their master's hall4 #hf4 ,death1 thy servant1 is at my door4 ,he has crossed the unknown sea and brought thy call to my home4 ,the night is dark and my heart is fearful--yet ,i will take up the lamp1 open my gates and bow to him my welcome4 ,it is thy messenger who stands at my door4 ,i will worship him placing at his feet the treasure of my heart4 ,he will go back with his errand done1 leaving a dark shadow on my morning2 and in my desolate home only my forlorn self will remain as my last offering to thee4 #hg4 ,in desperate hope ,i go and search for her in all the corners of my room2 ,i find her not4 ,my house is small and what once has gone from it can never be regained4 ,but infinite is thy mansion1 my lord1 and seeking her ,i have to come to thy door4 ,i stand under the golden canopy of thine evening sky and ,i lift my eager eyes to thy face4 ,i have come to the brink of eternity from which nothing can vanish--no hope1 no happiness1 no vision of a face seen through tears4 ,oh1 dip my emptied life into that ocean1 plunge it into the deepest fullness4 ,let me for once feel that lost sweet touch in the allness of the universe4 #hh4 ,deity of the ruined temple6 ,the broken strings of ,vina sing no more your praise4 ,the bells in the evening proclaim not your time of worship4 ,the air is still and silent about you4 ,in your desolate dwelling comes the vagrant spring breeze4 ,it brings the tidings of flowers--the flowers that for your worship are offered no more4 ,your worshipper of old wanders ever longing for favour still refused4 ,in the eventide1 when fires and shadows mingle with the gloom of dust1 he wearily comes back to the ruined temple with hunger in his heart4 ,many a festival day comes to you in silence1 deity of the ruined temple4 ,many a night of worship goes away with lamp unlit4 ,many new images are built by masters of cunning art and carried to the holy stream of oblivion when their time is come4 ,only the deity of the ruined temple remains unworshipped in deathless neglect4 #hi4 ,no more noisy1 loud words from me--such is my master's will4 ,henceforth ,i deal in whispers4 ,the speech of my heart will be carried on in murmurings of a song4 ,men hasten to the ,king's market4 ,all the buyers and sellers are there4 ,but ,i have my untimely leave in the middle of the day1 in the thick of work4 ,let then the flowers come out in my garden1 though it is not their time2 and let the midday bees strike up their lazy hum4 ,full many an hour have ,i spent in the strife of the good and the evil1 but now it is the pleasure of my playmate of the empty days to draw my heart on to him2 and ,i know not why is this sudden call to what useless inconsequence6 #ij4 ,on the day when death will knock at thy door what wilt thou offer to him8 ,oh1 ,i will set before my guest the full vessel of my life--,i will never let him go with empty hands4 ,all the sweet vintage of all my autumn days and summer nights1 all the earnings and gleanings of my busy life will ,i place before him at the close of my days when death will knock at my door4 #ia4 ,o thou the last fulfilment of life1 ,death1 my death1 come and whisper to me6 ,day after day ,i have kept watch for thee2 for thee have ,i borne the joys and pangs of life4 ,all that ,i am1 that ,i have1 that ,i hope and all my love have ever flowed towards thee in depth of secrecy4 ,one final glance from thine eyes and my life will be ever thine own4 ,the flowers have been woven and the garland is ready for the bridegroom4 ,after the wedding the bride shall leave her home and meet her lord alone in the solitude of night4 #ib4 ,i know that the day will come when my sight of this earth shall be lost1 and life will take its leave in silence1 drawing the last curtain over my eyes4 ,yet stars will watch at night1 and morning rise as before1 and hours heave like sea waves casting up pleasures and pains4 ,when ,i think of this end of my moments1 the barrier of the moments breaks and ,i see by the light of death thy world with its careless treasures4 ,rare is its lowliest seat1 rare is its meanest of lives4 ,things that ,i longed for in vain and things that ,i got--let them pass4 ,let me but truly possess the things that ,i ever spurned and overlooked4 #ic4 ,i have got my leave4 ,bid me farewell1 my brothers6 ,i bow to you all and take my departure4 ,here ,i give back the keys of my door--and ,i give up all claims to my house4 ,i only ask for last kind words from you4 ,we were neighbours for long1 but ,i received more than ,i could give4 ,now the day has dawned and the lamp that lit my dark corner is out4 ,a summons has come and ,i am ready for my journey4 #id4 ,at this time of my parting1 wish me good luck1 my friends6 ,the sky is flushed with the dawn and my path lies beautiful4 ,ask not what ,i have with me to take there4 ,i start on my journey with empty hands and expectant heart4 ,i shall put on my wedding garland4 ,mine is not the red-brown dress of the traveller1 and though there are dangers on the way ,i have no fear in mind4 ,the evening star will come out when my voyage is done and the plaintive notes of the twilight melodies be struck up from the ,king's gateway4 #ie4 ,i was not aware of the moment when ,i first crossed the threshold of this life4 ,what was the power that made me open out into this vast mystery like a bud in the forest at midnight6 ,when in the morning ,i looked upon the light ,i felt in a moment that ,i was no stranger in this world1 that the inscrutable without name and form had taken me in its arms in the form of my own mother4 ,even so1 in death the same unknown will appear as ever known to me4 ,and because ,i love this life1 ,i know ,i shall love death as well4 ,the child cries out when from the right breast the mother takes it away1 in the very next moment to find in the left one its consolation4 #if4 ,when ,i go from hence let this be my parting word1 that what ,i have seen is unsurpassable4 ,i have tasted of the hidden honey of this lotus that expands on the ocean of light1 and thus am ,i blessed--let this be my parting word4 ,in this playhouse of infinite forms ,i have had my play and here have ,i caught sight of him that is formless4 ,my whole body and my limbs have thrilled with his touch who is beyond touch2 and if the end comes here1 let it come--let this be my parting word4 #ig4 ,when my play was with thee ,i never questioned who thou wert4 ,i knew nor shyness nor fear1 my life was boisterous4 ,in the early morning thou wouldst call me from my sleep like my own comrade and lead me running from glade to glade4 ,on those days ,i never cared to know the meaning of songs thou sangest to me4 ,only my voice took up the tunes1 and my heart danced in their cadence4 ,now1 when the playtime is over1 what is this sudden sight that is come upon me8 ,the world with eyes bent upon thy feet stands in awe with all its silent stars4 #ih4 ,i will deck thee with trophies1 garlands of my defeat4 ,it is never in my power to escape unconquered4 ,i surely know my pride will go to the wall1 my life will burst its bonds in exceeding pain1 and my empty heart will sob out in music like a hollow reed1 and the stone will melt in tears4 ,i surely know the hundred petals of a lotus will not remain closed for ever and the secret recess of its honey will be bared4 ,from the blue sky an eye shall gaze upon me and summon me in silence4 ,nothing will be left for me1 nothing whatever1 and utter death shall ,i receive at thy feet4 #ii4 ,when ,i give up the helm ,i know that the time has come for thee to take it4 ,what there is to do will be instantly done4 ,vain is this struggle4 ,then take away your hands and silently put up with your defeat1 my heart1 and think it your good fortune to sit perfectly still where you are placed4 ,these my lamps are blown out at every little puff of wind1 and trying to light them ,i forget all else again and again4 ,but ,i shall be wise this time and wait in the dark1 spreading my mat on the floor2 and whenever it is thy pleasure1 my lord1 come silently and take thy seat here4 #ajj4 ,i dive down into the depth of the ocean of forms1 hoping to gain the perfect pearl of the formless4 ,no more sailing from harbour to harbour with this my weather-beaten boat4 ,the days are long passed when my sport was to be tossed on waves4 ,and now ,i am eager to die into the deathless4 ,into the audience hall by the fathomless abyss where swells up the music of toneless strings ,i shall take this harp of my life4 ,i shall tune it to the notes of forever1 and when it has sobbed out its last utterance1 lay down my silent harp at the feet of the silent4 #aja4 ,ever in my life have ,i sought thee with my songs4 ,it was they who led me from door to door1 and with them have ,i felt about me1 searching and touching my world4 ,it was my songs that taught me all the lessons ,i ever learnt2 they showed me secret paths1 they brought before my sight many a star on the horizon of my heart4 ,they guided me all the day long to the mysteries of the country of pleasure and pain1 and1 at last1 to what palace gate have they brought me in the evening at the end of my journey8 #ajb4 ,i boasted among men that ,i had known you4 ,they see your pictures in all works of mine4 ,they come and ask me1 8,who is he80 ,i know not how to answer them4 ,i say1 8,indeed1 ,i cannot tell40 ,they blame me and they go away in scorn4 ,and you sit there smiling4 ,i put my tales of you into lasting songs4 ,the secret gushes out from my heart4 ,they come and ask me1 8,tell me all your meanings40 ,i know not how to answer them4 ,i say1 8,ah1 who knows what they mean60 ,they smile and go away in utter scorn4 ,and you sit there smiling4 #ajc4 ,in one salutation to thee1 my ,god1 let all my senses spread out and touch this world at thy feet4 ,like a rain-cloud of ,july hung low with its burden of unshed showers let all my mind bend down at thy door in one salutation to thee4 ,let all my songs gather together their diverse strains into a single current and flow to a sea of silence in one salutation to thee4 ,like a flock of homesick cranes flying night and day back to their mountain nests let all my life take its voyage to its eternal home in one salutation to thee4