Breaking the key to my home, who wilt take me
O friend mine!
Without seeing thou, canst live life so lone;
Perhaps the night has ended
Perhaps the sun has sent rays,
Thy soft pinkish morning's glow
On the sky blue how doth show-
There can see the path ahead,
Wilt not thy chariot reach my door?
All those stars of the sky
How stare momentless
As they beside the night
and dawn's path take rest,
Seeing thou they wilt leaving all
Into the luminous sea take a fall;
All those pilgrims of the morn
Perhaps they have come like birds-
Singing songs of mirth, in flocks,
Perhaps the flower has bloomed,
Perhaps the music has arisen
In thy lyre of the sky ( of this season).
( * Note: it is a transliteration of a song of Rabindranath Tagore, as can be found in collected works, birth centenary edition, page 22, volume four.
This transliteration is my humble tribute to the greatest poet, philosopher of all times)
O friend mine!
Without seeing thou, canst live life so lone;
Perhaps the night has ended
Perhaps the sun has sent rays,
Thy soft pinkish morning's glow
On the sky blue how doth show-
There can see the path ahead,
Wilt not thy chariot reach my door?
All those stars of the sky
How stare momentless
As they beside the night
and dawn's path take rest,
Seeing thou they wilt leaving all
Into the luminous sea take a fall;
All those pilgrims of the morn
Perhaps they have come like birds-
Singing songs of mirth, in flocks,
Perhaps the flower has bloomed,
Perhaps the music has arisen
In thy lyre of the sky ( of this season).
( * Note: it is a transliteration of a song of Rabindranath Tagore, as can be found in collected works, birth centenary edition, page 22, volume four.
This transliteration is my humble tribute to the greatest poet, philosopher of all times)
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