The Complete Poetical Works of Rabindranath Tagore. Rabindranath Tagore
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Название: The Complete Poetical Works of Rabindranath Tagore
Автор: Rabindranath Tagore
Издательство: Bookwire
Жанр: Языкознание
isbn: 4064066059552
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We hasten to gather our flowers lest they are plundered by the passing winds.
It quickens our blood and brightens our eyes to snatch kisses that would vanish if we delayed.
Our life is eager, our desires are keen, for time tolls the bell of parting.
Brother, keep that in mind and rejoice.
There is not time for us to clasp a thing and crush it and fling it away to the dust.
The hours trip rapidly away, hiding their dreams in their skirts.
Our life is short; it yields but a few days for love.
Were it for work and drudgery it would be endlessly long.
Brother, keep that in mind and rejoice.
Beauty is sweet to us, because she dances to the same fleeting tune with our lives.
Knowledge is precious to us, because we shall never have time to complete it.
All is done and finished in the eternal Heaven.
But earth's flowers of illusion are kept eternally fresh by death.
Brother, keep that in mind and rejoice.
69
I hunt for the golden stag.
You may smile, my friends, but I pursue the vision that eludes me.
I run across hills and dales, I wander through nameless lands, because I am hunting for the golden stag.
You come and buy in the market and go back to your homes laden with goods, but the spell of the homeless winds has touched me
I know not when and where.
I have no care in my heart; all my belongings I have left far behind me.
I run across hills and dales, I wander through nameless lands— because I am hunting for the golden stag.
70
I remember a day in my childhood I floated a paper boat in the ditch.
It was a wet day of July; I was alone and happy over my play.
I floated my paper boat in the ditch.
Suddenly the storm clouds thickened, winds came in gusts, and rain poured in torrents.
Rills of muddy water rushed and swelled the stream and sunk my boat.
Bitterly I thought in my mind that the storm came on purpose to spoil my happiness; all its malice was against me.
The cloudy day of July is long today, and I have been musing over all those games in life wherein I was loser.
I was blaming my fate for the many tricks it played on me, when suddenly I remembered the paper boat that sank in the ditch.
71
The day is not yet done, the fair is not over, the fair on the river-bank.
I had feared that my time had been squandered and my last penny lost.
But no, my brother, I have still something left.
My fate has not cheated me of everything.
The selling and buying are over.
All the dues on both sides have been gathered in, and it is time for me to go home.
But, gatekeeper, do you ask for your toll?
Do not fear, I have still something left.
My fate has not cheated me of everything.
The lull in the wind threatens storm, and the lowering clouds in the west bode no good.
The hushed water waits for the wind.
I hurry to cross the river before the night overtakes me.
O ferryman, you want your fee!
Yes, brother, I have still something left.
My fate has not cheated me of everything.
In the wayside under the tree sits the beggar.
Alas, he looks at my face with a timid hope!
He thinks I am rich with the day's profit.
Yes, brother, I have still something left.
My fate has not cheated me of everything.
The night grows dark and the road lonely.
Fireflies gleam among the leaves.
Who are you that follow me with stealthy silent steps?
Ah, I know, it is your desire to rob me of all my gains.
I will not disappoint you!
For I still have something left, and my fate has not cheated me of everything.
At midnight I reach home.
My hands are empty.
You are waiting with anxious eyes at my door, sleepless and silent.
Like a timorous bird you fly to my breast with eager love.
Ay, ay, my God, much remains still.
My fate has not cheated me of everything.
72
With days of hard travail I raised a temple.
It had no doors or windows, its walls were thickly built with massive stones.
I forgot all else, I shunned all the world, I gazed in rapt contemplation at the image I had set upon the altar.
It was always night inside, and lit by the lamps of perfumed oil.
The ceaseless smoke of incense wound my heart in its heavy coils.