Inspirational poetry of love & the affections of the heart by Rabindranath Tagore:Your Questioning Eyes*For the Union of You and Me*In the dusky path of a dream*Trust Love(Love poems for Valentine’s day)

Music:
Richard Clayderman – Nights In White Satin

Luis Valadares Photography

The Gardener XXVIII: Your Questioning Eyes
Rabindranath Tagore

Your questioning eyes are sad. They
seek to know my meaning as the moon
would fathom the sea.
I have bared my life before your
eyes from end to end, with nothing
hidden or held back. That is why you
know me not.
If it were only a gem, I could break
it into a hundred pieces and string
them into a chain to put on your neck.

If it were only a flower, round and
small and sweet, I could pluck it from
its stem to set it in your hair.
But it is a heart, my beloved.
Where are its shores and its bottom?
You know not the limits of this
kingdom, still you are its queen.
If it were only a moment of pleasure
it would flower in an easy smile, and
you could see it and read it in a moment.

If it were merely a pain it would
melt in limpid tears, reflecting its
inmost secret without a word.
But it is love, my beloved.
Its pleasure and pain are boundless,
and endless its wants and wealth.
It is as near to you as your life, but
you can never wholly know it.


Gabriela Slegrova Photography

For the Union of You and Me
Rabindranath Tagore

It is for the union of you and me
that there is light in the sky.

It is for the union of you and me
that the earth is decked in dusky green.

It is for the union of you and me
that the night sits motionless
with the world in her arms;

Dawn appears opening the eastern door
with sweet murmurs in her voice.

The boat of hope sails along the currents
of eternity toward that union;

Flowers of the ages are being gathered together
for its welcoming ritual.

It is for the union of you and me
that this heart of mine, in the garb of a bride,

Has proceeded from birth to birth upon the surface
of this ever-turning world to chose the beloved.

In the dusky path of a dream
Rabindranath Tagore

IN the dusky path of a dream
I went to seek the love who was mine in a former life.

Her house stood at the end of a desolate street.
In the evening breeze her pet peacock sat drowsing on its perch, and the pigeons were silent in their corner.

She set her lamp down by the portal
and stood before me.

She raised her large eyes to my face and mutely asked,
“Are you well, my friend?”

I tried to answer,
but our language had been lost and forgotten.

I thought and thought;
our names would not come to my mind.

Tears shone in her eyes.
She held up her right hand to me.
I took it and stood silent.

Our lamp had flickered in the evening breeze
and died.

The Gardener XXVII: Trust Love
Rabindranath Tagore

“Trust love even if it brings sorrow.Do not close up your heart.”
“Ah no, my friend,your words are dark,I cannot understand them.”

“The heart is only for giving away with a tear and a song,my love.”
“Ah no,my friend,your words are dark,I cannot understand them.”

“Pleasure is frail like a dewdrop,while it laughs it dies.
But sorrow is strong and abiding.Let sorrowful love
wake in your eyes.”
“Ah no,my friend,your words are dark,I cannot understand them.”

“The lotus blooms in the sight of the sun,and loses all that it has.
It would not remain in bud in the eternal winter mist.”
“Ah no, my friend,your words are darkI cannot understand them.

Hohe Lieder(Gitanjali) Von Rabindranath Tagore

Ein Auszug aus dem Werk Gitanjali.
(Hohe Lieder)
Rabindranath Tagore
Deutsche Nachdichtung von Marie Luise Gothein

Laß dies Stimmen und Singen
und Sagen des Rosenkranzes!
Wen betest du an
in diesem einsamen,
dunklen Winkel des Tempels,
in dem verschlossenen Tor?

Öffne die Augen und sieh,
dein Gott ist nicht vor dir.

Er ist dort, wo der Pflüger
den harten Grund pflügt,
wo der Steinklopfer Steine bricht.
Er ist mit ihnen
in Sonne und Regen
und wo sein Kleid bedeckt ist mit Staub.
Leg ab deinen heiligen Mantel
und komme herab mit ihm
auf den staubigen Boden.

Befreiung? Wo ist die Befreiung zu finden?
Unser Meister hat freudig
die Bande der Schöpfung auf sich genommen;
er ist mit uns für immer gebunden.

Komm heraus aus deiner Betrachtung,
laß Blumen und Weihrauch beiseite!
Was schadet es, wenn deine Kleider zerreißen
und fleckig werden.
Geh ihm entgegen,
stehe bei ihm in der Arbeit,
dem Schweiß deiner Stirne.

Your Questioning Eyes by Rabindranath Tagore

The Gardener XXVIII: Your Questioning Eyes
Rabindranath Tagore

Your questioning eyes are sad. They
seek to know my meaning as the moon
would fathom the sea.
I have bared my life before your
eyes from end to end, with nothing
hidden or held back. That is why you
know me not.

If it were only a gem, I could break
it into a hundred pieces and string
them into a chain to put on your neck.
If it were only a flower, round and
small and sweet, I could pluck it from
its stem to set it in your hair.

But it is a heart, my beloved.
Where are its shores and its bottom?
You know not the limits of this
kingdom, still you are its queen.
If it were only a moment of pleasure
it would flower in an easy smile, and
you could see it and read it in a
moment.

If it were merely a pain it would
melt in limpid tears, reflecting its
inmost secret without a word.
But it is love, my beloved.
Its pleasure and pain are boundless,
and endless its wants and wealth.
It is as near to you as your life, but
you can never wholly know it.

Fireflies by Rabindranath Tagore

Richard Johnson Art

Excerpt From”Fireflies”
Rabindranath Tagore

“Fireflies” is a collection of proverbs, aphorisms, and maxims from India, China, and Japan. Collected by Rabindranath Tagore over many years.

My fancies are fireflies,—
Specks of living light
twinkling in the dark.

The voice of wayside pansies,
that do not attract the careless glance,
murmurs in these desultory lines.

In the drowsy dark caves of the mind
dreams build their nest with fragments
dropped from day’s caravan.

Spring scatters the petals of flowers
that are not for the fruits of the future,
but for the moment’s whim.

Joy freed from the bond of earth’s slumber
rushes into numberless leaves,
and dances in the air for a day.

My words that are slight
my lightly dance upon time’s waves
when my works havy with import have gone down.

Mind’s underground moths
grow filmy wings
and take a farewell flight
in the sunset sky.

Inspirational contemplative poems on Spirituality,Tolerance and Humanity:Only Breath by rumi/Wonder by Ibn Arabi/In my soul by rabia/Go not to the temple by Tagore /To live of Love bySaint Teresa of Lisieux/Men Whom Men Condemn as Ill by Joaquin Miller

Music:
Omar Faruk Tekbilek – Hasret(yearning)

Only Breath
Rumi

Not Christian or Jew or Muslim, not Hindu
Buddhist, sufi, or zen. Not any religion

or cultural system. I am not from the East
or the West, not out of the ocean or up

from the ground, not natural or ethereal, not
composed of elements at all. I do not exist,

am not an entity in this world or in the next,
did not descend from Adam and Eve or any

origin story. My place is placeless, a trace
of the traceless. Neither body or soul.

I belong to the beloved, have seen the two
worlds as one and that one call to and know,

first, last, outer, inner, only that
breath breathing human being.


John Atkinson Grimshaw art

In my soul
rabi’a al adawiyya

In my Soul there is a temple, a shrine, a mosque, a church where I kneel. Prayer should bring us to an altar where no walls or names exist.
Is there not a region of Love, where the Sovereignty is illuminated nothing, Where ecstasy gets poured into itself and becomes lost,
Where the wing is fully alive but has no mind or body?
In my Soul there is a temple, a shrine, a mosque, a church that dissolves,
That dissolves in God.

Wonder
Ibn ‘Arabi

O Marvel! a garden amidst the flames.
My heart has become capable of every form:
it is a pasture for gazelles
and a convent for Christian monks,
and a temple for idols and the pilgrim’s Kaa’ba,
and the tables of the Torah and the book of the Quran.
I follow the religion of Love:
whatever way Love’s camels take,
that is my religion and my faith.

Men Whom Men Condemn as Ill
Joaquin Miller

In men whom men condemn as ill
I find so much of goodness still,
In men whom men pronounce divine
I find so much of sin and blot,
I do not dare to draw a line
Between the two, where God has not.

Who now shall accuse and arraign us?
What man shall condemn and disown?
Since Christ has said only the stainless
Shall cast at his fellows a stone.

To live of love
Saint Teresa of Lisieux

To live of love it is to sail afar
And bring both peace and joy where’er I be.
0 Pilot blest! love is my guiding star;
In every soul I meet, Thyself I see.
Safe sail I on, through wind or rain or ice;
Love urges me, love conquers every gale.
High on my mast behold is my device:
“By love I sail!”

Go not to the temple
by Rabindranath Tagore

Go not to the temple to put flowers upon the feet of God,
First fill your own house with the Fragrance of love…

Go not to the temple to light candles before the altar of God,
First remove the darkness of sin from your heart…

Go not to the temple to bow down your head in prayer,
First learn to bow in humility before your fellowmen…

Go not to the temple to pray on bended knees,
First bend down to lift someone who is down-trodden…

Go not to the temple to ask for forgiveness for your sins,
First forgive from your heart those who have sinned against you.


Herbert Arnould Olivier art

If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
1 Corinthians 13:1-8

The First Jasmines by Rabindranath Tagore

The First Jasmines
Rabindranath Tagore

Ah, these jasmines, these white jasmines!
I seem to remember the first day when I filled my hands with
these jasmines, these white jasmines.
I have loved the sunlight, the sky and the green earth;
I have heard the liquid murmur of the river thorough the
darkness of midnight;

Autumn sunsets have come to me at the bend of a road in the
lonely waste, like a bride raising her veil to accept her lover.
Yet my memory is still sweet with the first white jasmines
that I held in my hands when I was a child.
Many a glad day has come in my life, and I have laughed with
merrymakers on festival nights.

On grey mornings of rain I have crooned many an idle song.
I have worn round my neck the evening wreath of bakulas
woven by the hand of love.
Yet my heart is sweet with the memory of the first fresh
jasmines that filled my hands when I was a child.

Rabindranath Tagore Poems on Romantic Love :41 -The Gardener;40 – The Gardener;Unending Love;I Found A Few Old Letters

Music:
Kevin Kern-Always Near

Richard Johnson Art
41 – The Gardener
Rabindranath Tagore

I long to speak the deepest words I have to say to you;
but I dare not, for fear you should laugh.
That is why I laugh at myself and shatter my secret in jest.
I make light of my pain, afraid you should do so.

I long to tell you the truest words I have to say to you;
but I dare not, being afraid that you would not believe them.
That is why I disguise them in untruth, saying the contrary of
what I mean.
I make my pain appear absurd, afraid that you should do so.

I long to use the most precious words I have for you;
but I dare not, fearing I should not be paid with like value.
That is why I gave you hard names and boast
of my callous strength.
I hurt you, for fear you should never know any pain.

I long to sit silent by you; but I dare not lest my heart come
out at my lips.
That is why I prattle and chatter lightly and hide my heart
behind words.
I rudely handle my pain, for fear you should do so.

I long to go away from your side; but I dare not, for fear my
cowardice should become known to you.
That is why I hold my head high and carelessly
come into your presence.
Constant thrusts from your eyes keep my pain fresh for ever.

Wilhelm Amberg Art

40 – The Gardener
Rabindranath Tagore

An unbelieving smile flits on your eyes when I come to you to
take my leave.
I have done it so often that you think I will soon return.
To tell you the truth I have the same doubt in my mind.

For the spring days come again time after time; the full moon
takes leave and comes on another visit, the flowers come again
and blush upon their branches year after year, and it is likely
that I take my leave only to come to you again.
But keep the illusion awhile; do not send it away
with ungentle haste.

When I say I leave you for all time, accept it as true, and let
a mist of tears for one moment deepen
the dark rim of your eyes.
Then smile as archly as you like when I come again.

Richard Johnson Art

Unending Love
Rabindranath Tagore

I seem to have loved you in numberless forms,
numberless times…In life after life, in age
after age, forever.
My spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace
of songs,that you take as a gift, wear round your neck
in your many forms,In life after life, in age after age, forever.

Whenever I hear old chronicles of love, it’s age-old pain,
It’s ancient tale of being apart or together.
As I stare on and on into the past, in the end you emerge,
Clad in the light of a pole-star piercing the darkness of time:
You become an image of what is remembered forever.

You and I have floated here on the stream that
brings from the fount.
At the heart of time, love of one for another.
We have played along side millions of lovers, shared in
the same shy sweetness of meeting, the same distressful
tears of farewell-Old love but in shapes that renew and
renew forever.

Today it is heaped at your feet, it has found its end in you
The love of all man’s days both past and forever:
Universal joy, universal sorrow, universal life.
The memories of all loves merging with this one love of ours –
And the songs of every poet past and forever.
Johanna Harmon Art

I Found A Few Old Letters
Rabindranath Tagore

I found a few old letters of mine carefully hidden in thy box
a few small toys for thy memory to play with. With a timorous
heart thou didst try to steal these trifles from the turbulent
stream of time which washes away planets and stars,and didst
say, “These are only mine!” Alas, there is no one now who can
claim them—who is able to pay their price; yet they are still
here. Is there no love in this world to rescue thee from utter
loss, even like this love of thine that saved these letters
with such fond care?

O woman, thou camest for a moment to my side and touched me
with the great mystery of the woman that there is in the heart
of creation—she who ever gives back to God his own outflow of
sweetness; who is the eternal love and beauty and youth; who
dances in bubbling streams and sings in the morning light;
who with heaving waves suckles the thirsty earth and whose
mercy melts in rain; in whom the eternal one breaks in two
in joy that can contain itself no more and overflows in
the pain of love.

Lover’s Gifts II: Come to My Garden Walk by Rabindranath Tagore

Richard Johnson Painting

Lover’s Gifts II: Come to My Garden Walk
Rabindranath Tagore

Come to my garden walk, my love. Pass by the fervid flowers that press themselves on your sight. Pass them by, stopping at some chance joy, which like a sudden wonder of sunset illumines, yet elude.
For lover’s gift is shy, it never tells its name, it flits across the shade, spreading a shiver of joy along the dust.
Overtake it or miss it for ever. But a gift that can be grasped is merely a frail flower, or a lamp with flame that will flicker.

Chain Of Pearls by Rabindranath Tagore

Adolphe William Bouguereau painting

Chain Of Pearls
Rabindranath Tagore

Mother, I shall weave a chain of pearls for thy neck
with my tears of sorrow.

The stars have wrought their anklets of light to deck thy feet,
but mine will hang upon thy breast.

Wealth and fame come from thee
and it is for thee to give or to withhold them.
But this my sorrow is absolutely mine own,
and when I bring it to thee as my offering
thou rewardest me with thy grace.

Friend by Rabindranath Tagore;Keep Me Fully Glad by Rabindranath Tagore

Friend
Rabindranath Tagore

Art thou abroad on this stormy night
on thy journey of love, my friend?
The sky groans like one in despair.

I have no sleep tonight.
Ever and again I open my door and look out on
the darkness, my friend!

I can see nothing before me.
I wonder where lies thy path!

By what dim shore of the ink-black river,
by what far edge of the frowning forest,
through what mazy depth of gloom art thou threading
thy course to come to me, my friend?

Keep Me Fully Glad
Rabindranath Tagore

Keep me fully glad with nothing. Only take my hand
in your hand.
In the gloom of the deepening night take up my heart
and play with it as you list. Bind me close to you
with nothing.
I will spread myself out at your feet and lie still.
Under this clouded sky I will meet silence with silence.
I will become one with the night clasping the earth
in my breast.
Make my life glad with nothing.
The rains sweep the sky from end to end. Jasmines in
the wet untamable wind revel in their own perfume.
The cloud-hidden stars thrill in secret. Let me fill
to the full my heart with nothing but my own depth of joy.