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Gitanjali - Song Offerings


Gitanjali – Song Offerings is the magnum opus of Rabindranath Tagore and the work that gave him the Nobel Prize.

Written by: Rabindranath Tagore

Gitanjali – Song Offerings is the magnum opus of Rabindranath Tagore and the work that gave him the Nobel Prize.  This is the English translation, Tagore wrote in Bengali and translated to English himself. The book consists of 103 poems rooted in the ancient spiritual wisdom of India. Most of the poems found in Gitanjali are prayers written when Rabindranath Tagore experienced difficult times, he lost both his father, wife, a daughter and a son in a short time. This pain and deep devotion to God are captured in the moving prose-verses of Gitanjali, which Tagore dedicated as “Song Offerings”. One of the most cited verses is Where the mind is without fear which is also included in this album.


Gitanjali 35

BY RABINDRANATH TAGORE

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;
    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.



10 

HERE is thy footstool and there rest 
thy feet where live the poorest, and 
lowliest, and lost. 

When I try to bow to thee, my 
obeisance cannot reach down to the 
depth where thy feet rest among the 
poorest, and lowliest, and lost 

Pride can never approach to where 
thou walkest in the clothes of the 
humble among the poorest, and lowliest, 
and lost. 

My heart can never find its way to 
where thou keepest company with the 
companionless among the poorest, the 
lowliest, and the lost. 

10 G1TANJALI 

12 

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 leav- 
ing 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 1 " 



13 

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 spread- 
ing 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. 



MY desires are many and my cry is 
pitiful, but ever didst thou save me by 
hard refusals ; and this strong mercy 
has been wrought into my life through 
and through. 

Day by day thou art making me 
worthy of the simple, great gifts that 
thou gavest to me unasked this sky 
and the light, this body and the life 
and the mind saving me from perils 
of overmucli desire. 

There are times when I languidly 
linger and times when I awaken and 
hurry in search of my goal ; but cruelly 
thou hidest thyself from before me. 

Day by day thou art making me 
worthy of thy full acceptance by refus- 
ing me ever and anon, saving me from 
perils of weak, uncertain desire. 



15
I AM here to sing thee songs.

I AM here to sing thee songs. 
In this hall of thine I have a corner seat- 
In thy world I have no work to do ; 
my useless life can only break out in tunes without a purpose. 

When the hour strikes for thy silent worship 
at the dark temple of midnight, 
command me, my master, 
to stand before thee to sing. 

When in the morning air 
the golden harp is tuned,
honour me, 
commanding my presence. 

17

I AM only waiting for love to give 
myself up at last into his hands. That 
is why it is so late and why I have 
been guilty of such omissions. 

They come with their laws and their 
codes to bind me fast; but I evade 
them ever, for I am only waiting for 
love to give myself up at last into his 
hands. 

People blame me and call me heed- 
less ; I doubt not they are right in their 
blame. 

The market day is over and work is 
all done for the busy. Those who came 
to call me in vain have gone back in 
anger. I am only waiting for love to 
give myself up at last into his hands. 

5

I ASK for a moment's indulgence to sit 
by thy side. 
The works that I have 
in hand I will finish afterwards. 

Away from the sight of thy face my 
heart knows no rest nor respite, and 
my work becomes an endless toil in a 
shoreless sea of toil. 

To-day the summer has come at my 
window with its sighs and murmurs; 
and the bees are plying their minstrelsy 
at the court of the flowering grove. 

Now it is time to sit quiet, face to 
face with thee, and to sing dedication 
of life in this silent and overflowing 
leisure. 


GITANJALI 31 

When the heart is hard and parched up, 
come upon me with a shower of mercy. 
When grace is lost from life, 
come with a burst of song.
come upon me with a shower of 
mercy. 

When tumultuous work raises its din 
on all sides shutting me out from beyond, 
come to me, my lord of silence, with 
thy peace and rest. 

come upon me with a shower of 
mercy. 

When my beggarly heart sits crouched, 
shut up in a corner, break open the door, 
my king, and come with the ceremony 
of a king. 

come upon me with a shower of 
mercy. 

When desire blinds the mind with 
delusion and dust, O thou holy one, 
thou wakeful, come with thy light and 
thy thunder. 



42



EARLY in the day it was whispered that 
we should sail in a boat, only thou and 
I, and never a soul in the world would 
know of this our pilgrimage to no 
country and to no end. 

In that shoreless ocean, at thy silently 
listening smile my songs would swell 
in melodies, free as waves, free from all 
bondage of words. 

Is the time not come yet ? Are there 
works still to do ? Lo, the evening 
has come down upon the shore and in 
the fading light the seabirds come 
flying to their nests. 

Who knows when the chains will be 
off, and the boat, like the last glimmer 
of sunset, vanish into the night ? 








HAVE you not heard his silent steps ? 
He comes, comes, ever comes. 



GITANJALI 37 

Every moment and every age, every 
day and every night 

he comes, comes, ever comes. 

Many a song have I sung in many a 
mood of mind, but all their notes have 
always proclaimed, " 

He comes, comes, ever comes." 

In the fragrant days of sunny April 
through the forest path 

he comes, comes, ever comes. 

In the rainy gloom of July nights on 
the thundering chariot of clouds 

he comes, comes, ever comes. 

In sorrow after sorrow it is his steps 
that press upon my heart, and it is 
the golden touch of his feet that 
makes my joy to shine. 


30 GITANJALI

THAT I want thee, only thee let my 
heart repeat without end. All desires 
that distract me, day and night, are 
false and empty to the core. 

As the night keeps hidden in its 
gloom the petition for light, even thus 
in the depth of my unconsciousness 
rings the cry I want thee, only thee. 
s the storm still seeks its end in 
peace when it strikes against peace 
with all its might, even thus my rebellion strikes against thy 

love and still its cry is I want thee, only thee.

x


Oh, how, indeed, could I tell them 
that for thee I wait, and that thou hast 
promised to come. 
How could I utter 
for shame that I keep for my dowry 
this poverty. Ah, I hug this pride in 
the secret of my heart. 

I sit on the grass and gaze upon the 
sky and dream of the sudden splendour 
of thy coming all the lights ablaze, 
golden pennons flying over thy car, 
and they at the roadside standing 
agape, 

when they see thee come down from thy seat 
to raise me from the dust, and set at thy side this 
ragged beggar girl a -tremble with 
shame and pride, like a creeper in a 
summer breeze. 

But time glides on and still no sound 
of the wheels of thy chariot. Many a 
procession passes by with noise and 
shouts and glamour of glory. Is it only 
thou who wouldst stand in the shadow 
silent and behind them all ? And only I
w  ho would wait and weep and wear out 
my heart in vain longing ? 





I ASK for a moment's indulgence to sit 
by thy side. The works that I have 
in hand I will finish afterwards. 

Away from the sight of thy face my 
heart knows no rest nor respite, and 
my work becomes an endless toil in a 
shoreless sea of toil. 

To-day the summer has come at my 
window with its sighs and murmurs; 

and the bees are plying their minstrelsy 
at the court of the flowering grove. 


Now it is time to sit quiet, face to 
face with thee, and to sing dedication 
of life in this silent and overflowing 
leisure. 

GITANJALI 9

LEAVE this chanting and singing and 
telling of beads ! Whom dost thou 
worship in this lonely dark corner of a 


temple with doors all shut ? Open 
thine eyes and see thy God is not before 
thee! 

He is there where the tiller is tilling 
the hard ground and where the path- 
maker is breaking stones. He is with 
them in sun and in shower, and his 
garment is covered with dust. Put off 
thy holy mantle and even like him come 
down on the dusty soil ! 

Deliverance ? Where is this deliver- 
ance to be found ? Our master himself 
has joyfully taken upon him the bonds 
of creation ; he is bound with us all for 
ever. 

Come out of thy meditations and 
leave aside thy flowers and incense ! 
What harm is there if thy clothes 
become tattered and stained ? Meet 
him and stand by him in toil and in 
sweat of thy brow. 


18 GITANJALI 

22 

IN the deep shadows of the rainy July, 
with secret steps, thou walkest, silent 
as night, eluding all watchers. 

To-day the morning has closed its 
eyes, heedless of the insistent calls of 
the loud east wind, 

and a thick veil has 
been drawn over the ever-wakeful blue 
sky. 

The woodlands have hushed their 
songs, and doors are all shut at every 
house. Thou art the solitary wayfarer 
in this deserted street. Oh my only 
friend, my best beloved, the gates are 
open in my house do not pass by like 
a dream. 




20 GITANJALI 


even as thou hast wrapt the earth 
with the coverlet of sleep 
and tenderly closed the petals of the
 drooping lotus at dusk. 

IF the day is done, 
if birds sing no more, 
if the wind has flagged tired, 
then draw the veil of darkness thick upon me, 

From the traveller, 
whose sack of provisions is empty 
before the voyage is ended, 
whose garment is torn and dust-laden, 

IF the day is done, 
if birds sing no more, 
if the wind has flagged tired, 
then draw the veil of darkness thick upon me, 

whose strength is exhausted, 
remove shame and poverty, 
and renew his life like a flower
 under the cover of thy kindly night. 

IF the day is done, 
if birds sing no more, 
if the wind has flagged tired, 
then draw the veil of darkness thick upon me,