The time that my journey takes is long and the way of it long.
I came out on the chariot of the first gleam of light, and
pursued my voyage through the wildernesses of worlds leaving my
track on many a star and planet.
It is the most distant course that comes nearest to thyself, and
that training is the most intricate which leads to the utter
simplicity of a tune.
The traveller has to knock at every alien door to come to his
own, and one has to wander through all the outer worlds to reach
the innermost shrine at the end.
My eyes strayed far and wide before I shut them and said ‘Here
art thou!’
The question and the cry ‘Oh, where?’ melt into tears of a
thousand streams and deluge the world with the flood of the
assurance ‘I am!’
The song that I came to sing remains unsung to this day.
I have spent my days in stringing and in unstringing my
instrument.
The time has not come true, the words have not been rightly set;
only there is the agony of wishing in my heart.
The blossom has not opened; only the wind is sighing by.
I have not seen his face, nor have I listened to his voice; only
I have heard his gentle footsteps from the road before my house.
The livelong day has passed in spreading his seat on the floor;
but the lamp has not been lit and I cannot ask him into my house.
I live in the hope of meeting with him; but this meeting is not
yet.
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From: GITANJALI – ‘Song Offerings’
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Tagore Short Poems
Tagore Stray Birds
Tagore Poems