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"Trees are the earth's endless effort to speak to the heaven".
- Rabindranath Tagore, Bengali Poet (1861 - 1941)
Instrumental version of Rabindranath Tagore's "phoolay phoolay dholay dholay" (which in itself is an adaptation of a ye aulde Scottish ballad), with Meiraj on lead accompanied by Ronny on bass.
Oggi alla fine del giorno
il tramonto posò le sue perle
sui fini e nerì capelli della sera
ed io le ho nascoste
come una collana senza filo
dentro il cuore.
Nel silenzio il cigno dorme .
sulla riva destra del fiume
e questo tramonto
attraverso il cielo luminoso di stelle
è venuto a toccare
la mia umile fronte:
sopra queste acque tacite e calme
ha iniziato la traversata tra astri e stelle:
ha steso
il suo manto d'oro
sulla soglia della notte
che dorme tranquilla:
e infine lungo le vie dell'arsa,
sopra il carro di un nero destriero
s'allontanerà facendo scintille:
ha lasciato soltanto un tocco
sulla fronte di un poeta.
Nel tuo infinito mai s'era visto
un tramonto così,
né più ritornerà.
#poesia #rabindranath #rabindranathtagore #instamoments #tramonto #pornochic #instanlove #instanmeet #nature
From a walk in my neighborhood last May. The universe breathes the joy of life. We should breathe more of it in.
My soul is alight with your infinitude of stars. Your world has broken upon me like a flood. The flowers of your garden blossom in my body. The joy of life that is everywhere burns like an incense in my heart. And the breath of all things plays on my life as on a pipe of reeds.
—by Rabindranath Tagore
(for Poetography, Theme 132—Blossom; ODT—Unnoticed; and Literary Reference in Pictures)
Shot this while passing through a small town some where in Rajasthan, India. The sun was beating down real hard and yet life was going on as usual. We had hired a car with a driver to take us around the major cities of Rajasthan, so we passed through many small towns and villages.
Parting Words by Rabindranath Tagore
When I go from hence
let this be my parting word,
that what I have seen is unsurpassable.
I have tasted of the hidden honey of this lotus
that expands on the ocean of light,
and thus am I blessed
---let this be my parting word.
In this playhouse of infinite forms
I have had my play
and here have I caught sight of him that is formless.
My whole body and my limbs
have thrilled with his touch who is beyond touch;
and if the end comes here, let it come
--let this be my parting word.
Some Rajasthani Music With That
Listen to Mhara Sajna by Richa Sharma from the album "Winds of Rajasthan"
Listen to Gorband - Song Of Camel Decoration by Anwar Manganiar, Bundu Langa and Gazi
Madhya Kalikata Sanskritik Prangan - Rabindra Jayanti 2008 - 25e Boishakh, 1415 - Rabindranath Tagore's Birthday , Bowbazar, Kolkata, India.
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"Tired of waiting, you burst your bonds, impatient flowers, before the winter had gone. Glimpses of the unseen comer reached your wayside watch, and you rushed out running and panting, impulsive jasmines, troops of riotous roses.
You were the first to march to the breach of death, your clamour of colour and perfume troubled the air. You laughed and pressed and pushed each other, bared your breast and dropped in heaps.
The Summer will come in its time, sailing in the flood-tide of the south wind. But you never counted slow moments to be sure of him. You recklessly spent your all in the road, in the terrible joy of faith.
You heard his footsteps from afar, and flung your mantle of death for him to tread upon. Your bonds break even before the rescuer is seen, you make him your own ere he can come and claim you."
~ Rabindranath Tagore, 1861-1941 ~
Pooja Gor is keen to experiment with her image! - www.bolegaindia.com/gossips/Pooja_Gor_is_keen_to_experime...
Have you not heard his silent steps?
He comes, comes, ever comes.
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.
— Rabindranath Tagore