Baba’s favorite Tagore poems
Baba (Shrii Shrii Anandamurti) loved Tagore poems and recited Tagore poems in his discourses.
Rabindranath Tagore received the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1913. He was the first Asian Nobel Laurate. After he won the Nobel Prize Tagore became an international celebrity and toured the world visiting many countries. In 1921, during his visit to Germany, he was treated as a hero. Many young women expressed their love for him even though he was quite advanced in age. Apparently, his poetry and philosophy, resonated strongly in the post war (WW I) Germany. Tagore was remarkably similar to Goethe. Maybe this is why he was so loved in Germany.
Vipade more rakśá kara e nahe mor prárthaná,
Vipade yena ná kari kabhu bhay;
Duhkha tápe vyathita cite nái bá dile sántvaná
Duhkhe yena karite pári jay.
[My prayer to You is not “Save me from danger,” but “Bless me so that I can overcome danger.” You need not console me in my suffering, but bless me so that I can overcome suffering.]
Ámi ye rúper padme karechi arúp madhu pán,
Duhkher vakśer májhe ánander peyechi sandhán.
Ananta maner váńii shunechi antare
Dekhechi jyotir path shúnyamay ándhaŕ prántare,
Nahi ámi vidhir brhat parihás
Asiim aeshvarya diye racita mahat sarvanásh.
[From the lotus of beauteous forms I have drunk the nectar of the formless, In the depths of misery I have discovered infinite bliss. I have listened to the message of the infinite silence, I have seen the path of effulgence in the dark endless void. Although a mere microcosm I am not just a joke of Providence Surrounded by limitless Macrocosmic wealth, yet ending in the Great Annihilation.]
Ore kavi sandhyá haye ela,
Keshe tomár dhareche ye pák
Base base úrdhvapáne ceye
Shuntecha ki parakáler d́ák?
Kavi kahe, sándhayá hala bat́e,
Base áchi laye shránta deha
Opáre oi pallii hate yadi,
Ajo hat́hát dáke ámáy keha.
Yadi hetháy bakul taruccháye,
Milan ghat́e tarúń-taruńiite
Dut́i ánkhir pare dut́i ánkhi,
Milite cáy duranta saḿgiite
Ke táháder maner kathá laye
Biińár táre tulbe pratidhavani
Ámi yadi bhaver kúle base
Parakáler bhála mandai gańi.
[“O poet! Evening has come
Your hair is streaked with grey
Are you listening to the call of the other world,
As you sit and gaze at the sky?”
“Ah! Yes, evening has come,” replied the poet
“And here I sit, with limbs tired and frail
Waiting for a sudden call from yonder village –
A call that might come even today.
“If here under this shady Bakul tree
Two young hearts meet in longing long
And two pairs of eyes seek to merge as one
In the eloquent melody of song
“Who will play on the strings of the lyre
Who will echo the secrets of their hearts
If I sit on the shores of the ocean of time
And ponder the virtue and vice of my life?”]
Pratham diner súrya prashna karechila
Sattár nútan ávirbháve, Ke tumi?
Mele ni uttar.
Vatsar vatsar cale gela
Divaser sheś súrya shesh prashna uccárila
Paschim ságar tiire nistabdha sandhyáy
Ke tumi?
Pela ná uttar.
[In the sunrise of the first day, the question arose before the first emerging being — “Who are you?” There was no answer. Years and years passed by. The setting sun of the last day repeated the last question on the still evening of the western horizon, “Who are you?” Still there was no answer.]
Ye tore págal bale
Táre tui balis ne kichu,
Ájke tore keman bhebe
Aunge ye tor dhúlá debe,
Kál se práte málá háte
Ásbe re tor pichu pichu;
Ájke ápan-máner bhare
Thák se báse gadiir pare,
Kál se preme ásve neme
Karbe re t́ar máthá niicu.
[Say nothing to those who call you mad
Who throw dust today, and call you a cad
Tomorrow at the break of dawn,
They will approach you, garland in hand.
Leave them alone on their cosy seats
Reputation mad and puffed with conceit
Surely tomorrow they will have to bow down
With flowing love and humbled crown.]
Chili ámár putul kheláy prabháte Shivapújár beláy
Tore ámi bheḿgechi ár gaŕechi
Tui ámár t́hákurer sane chili pújár siḿhásane
Tánri pújáy tomár pújá karechi
Sab devatár árádhya dhan nitya káler tui purátan
Tui prabháter álor samavayasii
Tui asiimer utsa hate esechis ánandasrote
Nútan haye ámár buke bilasi.
[You were there in the play of my childhood dolls,
You were there in my morning worship of Shiva.
I have broken and rebuilt your image again and again.
You are seated on the altar with my deity;
When I do His worship, I worship You as well.
You are the supreme goal of all gods,
Eternal, the oldest of the old.
You are as old as the morning radiance.
Emerging from the origin of infinity
In an eternal flow of bliss,
In expressions ever-new,
You are shining in my heart.]
Kon álote práńer pradiip
Jváliye tumi dharáy ása
Sádhak ogo premik ogo
Págal ogo dharáy ása.
[Enkindling the light of your lamp
With what divine light have you come to Earth?
O sádhaka, O devotee, O intoxicated one
With what divine light have you come to Earth?]
Hiḿsáy unmatta prthvii nitya nit́hura dvandva
Ghora kut́ila pantha táhára lobha jat́ila bandha.
[Mad with violence is the world,
Cruel are the battles which [[rage]] each day.
Crooked indeed are the ways of the world
Bound by the noose of greed.]
Vishvajaner páyer tale Dhúlimay ye bhúmi Sei to svargabhúmi Sabáy niye sabár majhe Lukiye ácha tumi Sei to ámar tumi.
[This dusty earth which humanity treads — this is indeed heaven; You who are within all, hiding in every heart — You are indeed mine.]
Pathik ámi pathei básá
Ámár jeman yáoyá temani ásá.
[I am a traveler, the path is my resting place. My coming and going are one and the same.]