POEMS: “Stray birds” by Rabindranath Tagore (verses 117 to 140 out of 326)

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POEMS: “Stray birds” by Rabindranath Tagore (verses 117 to 140  out of 326)

 

117

The grass-blade is worthy of the great world where it grows.

118

Dream is a wife who must talk.
Sleep is a husband who silently suffers.

119

The night kisses the fading day whispering to his ear, “I am death, your mother. I am to give you fresh birth.”

120

I fell thy beauty, dark night, like that of the loved woman when she has put out the lamp.

121

I carry in my world that flourishes the worlds that have failed.

122

Dear friend, I feel the silence of your great thoughts of many a deepening eventide on this beach when I listen to these waves.

123

The bird thinks it is an act of kindness to give the fish a lift in the air.

124

“In the moon thou sendest thy love letters to me,” said the night to the sun. “I leave my answers in tears upon the grass.”

125

The Great is a born child ; when he dies he gives his great childhood to the world.

126

Not hammer strokes, but dance of the water sings the pebbles into perfection.

127

Bees sip honey from flowers and hum their thanks when they leave.
The gaudy butterfly is sure that the flowers owe thanks to him.

128

To be outspoken is easy when you do not wait to speak the complete truth.

129

Asks the Possible to the Impossible, “Where is your dwelling place?”
“In the dreams of the impotent,” comes the answer.

130

If you shut your door to all errors truth will be shut out.

131

I hear some rustle of things behind my sadness of heart,—I cannot see them

132

Leisure in its activity is work.
The stillness of the sea stirs in waves.

133

The leaf becomes flower when it doves.
The flower becomes fruit when it worships.

134

The roots below the earth claim no rewards for making the branches fruitful.

135

This rainy evening the wind is restless.
I look at the swaying branches and ponder over the greatness of all things

136

Storm of midnight, like a giant child awakened in the untimely dark, has begun to play and shout.

137

Thou raisest thy waves vainly to follow thy lover, O sea, thou lonely bride of the storm.

138

“I am ashamed of my emptiness,” said the Word to the Work.
“I know how poor I am when I see you,” said the Work to the Word.

139

Time is the wealth of change, but the clock in its parody makes it mere change and no wealth.

140

Truth in her dress finds facts too tight.
In fiction she moves with ease.

TO
T. HARA
OF
YOKOHAMA

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5 Comments Add yours

  1. Fantastic rhythm of words and from none other than the awesome Tagore. What a poet none can compare him, Amira. Lovely picture too. Too good and what true words of truth and reality.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you dear Kamal! I know we share the love for this great poet! Sending love and light your way, Amira ❤

      Like

      1. Welcome dear Amira and yes a great poet for sure. Love and light your way too

        Liked by 1 person

  2. inaloveworld says:

    Beautiful poems and such delicate and gracious ducklings! 🙂 Thank you! Love & Light your way, dear Amira! ❤ ❤

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much dear Manuela! ❤ Love and light back your way dear friend! 🙂 ❤

      Liked by 1 person

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