Robert Bridges, ed. (18441930). The Spirit of Man: An Anthology. 1916.
Rabindranath Tagore (18611941)
|THOU 1 art the sky and Thou art also the nest.|
|O Thou Beautiful! how in the nest thy love embraceth the soul with sweet sounds and colour and fragrant odours!|
|Morning cometh there, bearing in her golden basket the wreath of beauty, silently to crown the earth.|
|And there cometh Evening, oer lonely meadows deserted of the herds, by trackless ways, carrying in her golden pitcher cool draughts of peace from the ocean-calms of the west.|
|But where thine infinite sky spreadeth for the soul to take her flight, a stainless white radiance reigneth; wherein is neither day nor night, nor form nor colour, nor ever any word.|| 5|
|Note 1. Tagore. [See 17.] From his Gitanjali (Song Offerings). Macmillan. 1913. No. 67. These are his own prose translations into English of his original Bengali poems. I have to thank him and his English publisher for allowing me to quote from this book, and in the particular instance of this very beautiful poem, for the authors friendliness in permitting me to shift a few words for the sake of what I considered more effective rhythm or grammar. [back]|