“Poetry is the fiery index to the genius of the age” – Babette Deutsch.
Author: Rabindranath Tagore.
Published: 2002.
Publisher: Rupa.
Book Length: 112.
Price : Rs 64.
Best Sellers Rank ( Amazon) : 3559.
Glimpse of the book ( and my favourite picks ) :
I had gone a-begging from door to door in the village path,
when thy golden chariot appeared in the distance like a gorgeous dream and
I wondered who was this king of all kings!
My hopes rose high and me thought my evil days were at an end, and I stood
waiting for alms to be given unasked and for wealth scattered on all sides
in the dust.
The chariot stopped where I stood. Thy glance fell on me and
thou camest down with a smile. I felt that the luck of my life had come at last.
Then of a sudden thou didst hold out thy right hand and say,
"What hast thou to give to me?"
Ah, what a kingly jest was it to open thy palm to a beggar to beg!
I was confused and stood undecided, and then from my wallet I slowly took out
the least little grain of corn and give it to thee,
But how great my surprise when at the day's end I emptied my bag on the floor
to find a least little grain of gold among the poor heap!
I bitterly wept and wished that I had the heart to give thee my all.
The sleep that flits on baby's eyes - Does anybody know from where it comes?
Yes , there is a rumour that it has its dwelling where,
in the fairy village among shadows of the forest dimly lit with glow-worms,
there hang two timid buds of enchantment,
From there it comes to kiss baby's eyes.
The smile that flickers on baby's lips when he sleeps - Does anybody know where it was born?
Yes there is a rumour that a young pale beam of crescent moon touched the edge of
a vanishing autumn cloud, and there the smile was first born in the dream of a
dew-washed morning -
The smile that flickers on baby's lips when he sleeps.
The sweet, soft freshness that blooms on baby's limbs - Does anybody know where it was hidden so long?
Yes, when the mother was a young girl it lay pervading her heart in tender and silent mystery of love
The sweet, soft freshness that has bloomed on baby's limbs.
When I bring to you coloured toys, my child,
I understand why there is such a play of colours on clouds, on water,
and why flowers are painted in tints -
When I give coloured toys to you , my child.
When I sing to make you dance,
I truly know why there is music in leaves,
and why waves send their chorus of voices to the heart of the listening earth -
When I sing to make you dance.
When I bring sweet things to your greedy hands,
I know why there is honey in the cup of the flower,
and why fruits are secretly filled with sweet juice -
When I bring sweet things to your greedy hands.
When I kiss your face to make you smile, my darling,
I surely understand what the pleasure is that streams
from the sky in morning light,
and what delight that is which summer breeze brings to my body -
When I kiss you to make you smile.
Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high;
Where knowledge is free;
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls;
Where words come out from the depth of truth;
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection;
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary desert
sand of dead habit;
Where the mind is led forward by thee into ever-widening thought and action -
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.
Blurb from the book:
Gitanjali ( Geet is song and Anjali is offerings, Geet + Anjali) or ‘Song offerings’ in English translation is a volume of 103 poems selected by Tagore from his several Bengali books of poetry. It was largely the Gitanjali poems that took the western world by storm and brought him worldwide recognition.
About the Author:
Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941) put us on the literary map of the world when his Gitanjali was awarded the Nobel Prize for literature in 1913. A poet’s poet , he is a maker of not only modern indian literature but also the modern indian mind. Myriad-minded, he was a poet, short story writer, novelist, dramatist, essayist, painter and composer of songs.
My Thoughts:
I don’t really consider myself worthy enough to review such a book by an author revered by many . I somehow couldn’t get through most of it as the language is tough.But the few poems in the excerpt above are the ones I am ‘head- over -heels’ in love with. The rest of them are waiting to be tasted and gulped by me and I don’t mind the effort. Waiting to absorb all the wisdom and goodness the poet has to offer and I am going to completely devour it. Worth re-reading again and again.
love-o-meter : ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
…ummmm!!! 😦
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