Fireflies 14

Poems of Rabindranath Tagore

the clouded sky today
bears the vision of the shadow
of a great sadness
on the forehead of a brooding eternity

the shade of my tree is for passers-by;
its fruit for the one for whom I wait

flushed with the glow of sunset
earth seems like a ripe fruit
ready for night harvest;
the greed for fruit misses the flower

light accepts darkness for spouse
for the sake of creation

to the blind pen
the hand that writes is unreal
its writing unmeaning;
the sea smites its own barren breast
because it has no flowers
to offer to the moon

the god in the temple of stars
waits for us to bring the lamp

fire restrained in the tree fashions flowers;
released from bonds
the shameless flame dies in barren ashes

the sky sets no snare to capture the moon—
it is her own freedom that binds her;
the light that fills the sky
seeks its limit
in a dew-drop on the grass

wealth is the burden of bigness;
welfare the fulness of being

Rabindranath Tagore (1928)

2 thoughts on “Fireflies 14

  1. Richard Hugo once wrote that truth conforms to music, it’s such a lovely thought and one found in Tagore’s poetic forms, over and over again. There are maybe others who inspire me to dance around my home from room to room (despite the looks from my son James), but I can’t think of any right now.


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