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Songs of Kabir By Rabindranath Tagore
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KABÎR'S POEMS I I. 13. mo ko kahân dhûnro bande O servant, where dost thou seek Me? Lo! I am beside thee. I am neither in temple nor in mosque: I am neither... More > in Kaaba nor in Kailash: Neither am I in rites and ceremonies, nor in Yoga and renunciation. If thou art a true seeker, thou shalt at once see Me: thou shalt meet Me in a moment of time. Kabîr says, "O Sadhu! God is the breath of all breath." II I. 16. Santan jât na pûcho nirguniyân It is needless to ask of a saint the caste to which he belongs; For the priest, the warrior. the tradesman, and all the thirty-six castes, alike are seeking for God. It is but folly to ask what the caste of a saint may be; The barber has sought God, the washerwoman, and the carpenter-- Even Raidas was a seeker after God. The Rishi Swapacha was a tanner by caste. Hindus and Moslems alike have achieved that End, where remains no mark of distinction.< Less
Sādhanā By Rabindranath Tagore
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The civilisation of ancient Greece was nurtured within city walls. In fact, all the modern civilisations have their cradles of brick and mortar. These walls leave their mark deep in the minds of... More > men. They set up a principle of "divide and rule" in our mental outlook, which begets in us a habit of securing all our conquests by fortifying them and separating them from one another. We divide nation and nation, knowledge and knowledge, man and nature. It breeds in us a strong suspicion of whatever is beyond the barriers we have built, and everything has to fight hard for its entrance into our recognition. When the first Aryan invaders appeared in India it was a vast land of forests, and the new-comers rapidly took advantage of them. These forests afforded them shelter from the fierce heat of the sun and the ravages of tropical storms, pastures for cattle, fuel for sacrificial fire, and materials for building cottages.< Less
The King of the Dark Chamber By Rabindranath Tagore
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Sings. We are all Kings in the kingdom of our King. Were it not so, how could we hope in our heart to meet him! We do what we like, yet we do what he likes; We are not bound with the... More > chain of fear at the feet of a slave-owning King. Were it not so, how could we hope in our heart to meet him! Our King honours each one of us, thus honours his own very self. No littleness can keep us shut up in its walls of untruth for aye. Were it not so, how could we have hope in our heart to meet him! We struggle and dig our own path, thus reach his path at the end. We can never get lost in the abyss of dark night. Were it not so, how could we hope in our heart to meet him! Song. My beloved is ever in my heart    That is why I see him everywhere, He is in the pupils of my eyes    That is why I see him everywhere. I went far away to hear his own words,.....< Less
The Post Office By Rabindranath Tagore
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[Madhav's House] Madhav. What a state I am in! Before he came, nothing mattered; I felt so free. But now that he has come, goodness knows from where, my heart is filled with his dear self, and... More > my home will be no home to me when he leaves. Doctor, do you think he— Physician. If there's life in his fate, then he will live long. But what the medical scriptures say, it seems— Madhav. Great heavens, what? Physician. The scriptures have it: "Bile or palsey, cold or gout spring all alike." Madhav. Oh, get along, don't fling your scriptures at me; you only make me more anxious; tell me what I can do. Physician [Taking snuff] The patient needs the most scrupulous care. Madhav. That's true; but tell me how. Physician. I have already mentioned, on no account must he be let out of doors. Madhav Poor child, it is very hard to keep him indoors all day long.< Less
Chitra: A Play in One Act By Rabindranath Tagore
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THIS lyrical drama was written about twenty-five years ago. It is based on the following story from the Mahabharata. In the course of his wanderings, in fulfilment of a vow of penance, Arjuna... More > came to Manipur. There he saw Chitrangada, the beautiful daughter of Chitravahana, the king of the country. Smitten with her charms, he asked the king for the hand of his daughter in marriage. Chitravahana asked him who he was, and learning that he was Arjuna the Pandara, told him that Prabhanjana, one of his ancestors in the kingly line of Manipur, had long been childless. In order to obtain an heir, he performed severe penances. Pleased with these austerities, the god Shiva gave him this boon, that he and his successors should each have one child. It so happened that the promised child had invariably been a son. He, Chitravahana, was the first to have only a daughter Chitrangada to perpetuate the race. He had, therefore, always treated her as a son and had made her his heir.< Less
The Cycle of Spring By Rabindranath Tagore
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Song of the Bamboo O South Wind, the Wanderer, come and rock me, Rouse me into the rapture of new leaves. I am the wayside bamboo tree, waiting for your breath To tingle life into my... More > branches. O South Wind, the Wanderer, my dwelling is in the end of the lane. I know your wayfaring, and the language of your footsteps. Your least touch thrills me out of my slumber, Your whisper gleans my secrets. (Enter a troop of girls, dancing, representing birds.) Song of the Bird The sky pours its light into our hearts, We fill the sky with songs in answer. We pelt the air with our notes When the air stirs our wings with its madness. O Flame of the Forest, All your flower-torches are ablaze; You have kissed our songs red with the passion of your youth. In the spring breeze the mango-blossoms launch their messages to the unknown And the new leaves dream aloud all day.< Less
The Fugitive By Rabindranath Tagore
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Darkly you sweep on, Eternal Fugitive, round whose bodiless rush stagnant space frets into eddying bubbles of light. Is your heart lost to the Lover calling you across his immeasurable... More > loneliness? Is the aching urgency of your haste the sole reason why your tangled tresses break into stormy riot and pearls of fire roll along your path as from a broken necklace? Your fleeting steps kiss the dust of this world into sweetness, sweeping aside all waste; the storm centred with your dancing limbs shakes the sacred shower of death over life and freshens her growth. Should you in sudden weariness stop for a moment, the world would rumble into a heap, an encumbrance, barring its own progress, and even the least speck of dust would pierce the sky throughout its infinity with an unbearable pressure. My thoughts are quickened by this rhythm of unseen feet round which the anklets of light are shaken. They echo in the pulse of my heart, and through my blood surges the psalm of the ancient sea.< Less
Stray Birds By Rabindranath Tagore
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1 STRAY birds of summer come to my window to sing and fly away. And yellow leaves of autumn, which have no songs, flutter and fall there with a sigh. 2 O TROUPE of little vagrants... More > of the world, leave your footprints in my words. 3 THE world puts off its mask of vastness to its lover. It becomes small as one song, as one kiss of the eternal. 4 IT is the tears of the earth that keep her smiles in bloom. 5 THE mighty desert is burning for the love of a blade of grass who shakes her head and laughs and flies away. 6 IF you shed tears when you miss the sun, you also miss the stars. 7 HE sands in your way beg for your song and your movement, dancing water. Will you carry the burden of their lameness? 8 HER wistful face haunts my dreams like the rain at night. 9 ONCE we dreamt that we were strangers. We wake up to find that we were dear to each other.< Less
The Crescent Moon By Rabindranath Tagore
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I PACED alone on the road across the field while the sunset was hiding its last gold like a miser. The daylight sank deeper and deeper into the darkness, and the widowed land, whose harvest had... More > been reaped, lay silent. Suddenly a boy's shrill voice rose into the sky. He traversed the dark unseen, leaving the track of his song across the hush of the evening. His village home lay there at the end of the waste land, beyond the sugar-cane field, hidden among the shadows of the banana and the slender areca palm, the cocoa-nut and the dark green jack-fruit trees. I stopped for a moment in my lonely way under the starlight, and saw spread before me the darkened earth surrounding with her arms countless homes furnished with cradles and beds, mothers' hearts and evening lamps, and young lives glad with a gladness that knows nothing of its value for the world.< Less
Gitanjali: Song Offerings By Rabindranath Tagore
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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... More > 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.< Less