SAYINGS FROM RABINDRANATH TAGORE

I just put these together because I like them.

Let us not pray to be sheltered from dangers but to be fearless in facing them.

Let me not beg for the stilling of my pain but for the heart to conquer it.

Let me not look for allies in life’s battlefield but to my own strength.

Let me not crave in anxious fear to be saved but hope for the patience to win my freedom.

Grant me that I may not be a coward, feeling your mercy in my success alone; but let me find the grasp of your hand in the future. -Rabindranath Tagore, Fruit-Gathering

Man barricades against himself. Tagore, from Stray Birds, LXXIX

We read the world wrong and say it deceives us. Tagore, from Stray Birds, LXXV

The woodcutter’s axe begged for its handle from the tree. The tree gave it. Tagore, from Stray Birds, LXXI

The world rushes over the strings of the lingering heart making the music of sadness. Tagore, from Stray Birds, XLIV

I have got my leave. Bid me farewell, my brothers! I bow to you and all and take my departure. Here I give back the keys of my door – and I give up all claims to my house. I only ask for last kind words from you. We were neighbors for long, but I received more than I could give. Now the day has dawned and the lamp that lit my dark corner is out. A summons has come and I am ready for my journey. Tagore, from Gitanjali, XCIII

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 form it can never be regained. But infinite is thy mansion, my lord, and seeking her I have come to thy door. I stand under the golden canopy of thine evening sky and I life 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 the ocean, plunge it into the deepest fullness. Let me for once feel that lost sweet touch in the allness of the universe. Tagore, from Gitanjali, LXXXVII

The father came back from the funeral rites. His boy of seven stood at the window, with eyes wide open and a golden amulet hanging from his neck, full of thoughts too difficult for his age. His father took him in his arms and the boy asked him, “Where is mother?”

“In heaven,” answered his father, pointing to the sky. The boy raised his eyes to the sky and long gazed in silence. His bewildered mind sent abroad into the night the question, “Where is heaven?” No answer came: and the stars seemed like the burning tears of that ignorant darkness. Tagore, from The Fugitive, Part II, XXI

Death, thy servant, is at my door. He has crossed the unknown sea and brought they call to my home. The night is dark and my heart is fearful – yet I will take up the lamp, open my gates and bow to him my welcome. It is they messenger who stands at my door. I will worship him placing at his feet the treasure of my heart. He will go back with his errand done, leaving a dark shadow on my morning; and in my desolate home only my forlorn self will remain as my last offering to thee. Tagore, from Gitanjali, LXXXVI

And, my two favorites:

The storm of last night has crowned this morning with golden peace. Tagore, from Stray Birds, CCXCIII

Death belongs to life as birth does. The walk is in the raising of the foot as in the laying of it down. Tagore, from Stray Birds, CCXVI