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Thy gifts to us mortals fulfil all our needs and yet run back to thee undiminished.
The river has its everyday work to do and hastens through fields and hamlets;
Yet its incessant stream winds towards the washing of thy feet.
The flower sweetens the air with its perfume; yet its last service is to offer itself to thee.
Thy worship does not impoverish the world.
From the words of the poet men take what meanings please them;
Yet their last meaning points to thee.
Rabindranath Tagore (Nobel Laureate Indian Poet 1864-1940) 'Gitanjali'
Sinning SRC WAP-4 22329 at the helm of Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus Mumbai - Howrah Gitanjali Express standing on PF-4 of Kalyan.
For larger view- www.flickr.com/photos/puthoor_photo/5369657487/sizes/l/in...
Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941) was a Poet, Philosopher, Musician, Writer, Educator, and the first Indian Nobel Laureate for Literature (1913). Tagore has been labelled the "King of Poets" for his beautiful and exquisite poetry. In particular Tagore had a deep love and reverence for nature which he was able to express through lyrical poetry.
Tagore was awarded the Nobel Prize in 1913 for his book Gitanjali. W.B.Yeats in particular was deeply impressed with this work and wrote an introduction. With this honour Tagore became famous in both India and the West. In 1915 Tagore was knighted by King George, however Tagore was to return his knighthood in protest of the Amritsar massacre (1919)
As a writer, Tagore primarily worked in Bengali, but after his success with Gitanjali, he translated many of his other works into English..
"Thy infinite gifts come to me only on these very small hands of mine."
Rabindranath Tagore, Gitanjali
wonderful wonderfulness
1. 0484, 2. River Roots, 3. Gitanjali # 9, 4. in the time of corona...., 5. Untitled, 6. once bitten, 7. from the series "small trees", 8. ***, 9. Untitled, 10. Abstract, 11. matryoshka, 12. Zoli's hands 05. (Kallitype), 13. By the Ouse #1, 14. Untitled, 15. wishbone, 16. good morning in the morning, 17. Untitled, 18. Cyanotype during sunprint., 19. Untitled, 20. Burnthouse Woods, 21. Canada Geese, 22. from the series "twilight stories", 23. Gitanjali # 8, 24. 04-16_I10_neg, 25. Untitled, 26. 03-21_inst-04, 27. Hvalfjörður, 28. Swamp Willows, 29. Too Early/Too Late, 30. Untitled, 31. Sandy Hook Closed (negative), 32. fishing, 33. wounded Spring, 34. Gitanjali # 1, 35. Somewhere near Willow, 36. Forks of Buffalo Farm Nº 2
Created with fd's Flickr Toys
山窮水盡
我以為我已經精疲力竭，旅程已經結束--前路已絶，儲糧已盡，幽暗處隱沒的時間，正在來臨。
但是，我發現在我的身上，你的意志沒有終點。陳言舊語剛消失在舌尖，新的樂章又奏響於心田。舊轍剛消失。又有新天地奇蹟般的展開。
《吉檀迦利》泰戈爾
Closed Path
I thought that my voyage had come to its end at the last limit of my power,--that the path before me was closed, that provisions were exhausted and the time come to take shelter in a silent obscurity.
But I find that thy will knows no end in me. And when old words die out on the tongue, new melodies break forth from the heart; and where the old tracks are lost, new country is revealed with its wonders.
Gitanjali by Robindranath Tagorol
12860/Gitanjali Express
গীতাঞ্জলি এক্সপ্রেস गीतांजलि एक्सप्रेस Skipping Ramrajatala towards KGP Led TKD WAP7#30635.😘😘❤️❤️
The trees are in their autumn beauty,
The woodland paths are dry,
Under the October twilight the water
Mirrors a still sky. - WBY
Tombstone located to the left in the image.....................................................
William Butler Yeats (13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939) was an Irish poet and one of the foremost figures of 20th century literature. A pillar of both the Irish and British literary establishments, in his later years he served as an Irish Senator for two terms. Yeats was a driving force behind the Irish Literary Revival and, along with Lady Gregory, Edward Martyn, and others, founded the Abbey Theatre, where he served as its chief during its early years.
In 1923 he was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature as the first Irishman so honoured for what the Nobel Committee described as "inspired poetry, which in a highly artistic form gives expression to the spirit of a whole nation."
Yeats is generally considered one of the few writers who completed their greatest works after being awarded the Nobel Prize; such works include The Tower (1928) and The Winding Stair and Other Poems (1929). Yeats was a very good friend of American expatriate poet and Bollingen Prize laureate Ezra Pound. Yeats wrote the introduction for Gitanjali, which was about to be published by the India Society.
Yeats was born in Dublin and educated there and in London, but spent his childhood holidays in County Sligo. He studied poetry in his youth and from an early age was fascinated by both Irish legends and the occult. Those topics feature in the first phase of his work, which lasted roughly until the turn of the 20th century. His earliest volume of verse was published in 1889, and its slow-paced and lyrical poems display Yeats's debts to Edmund Spenser, Percy Bysshe Shelley, and the poets of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. From 1900, Yeats's poetry grew more physical and realistic. He largely renounced the transcendental beliefs of his youth, though he remained preoccupied with physical and spiritual masks, as well as with cyclical theories of life.
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 overmuch 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 refusing me ever and
anon, saving me from perils of weak,
uncertain desire.
-Rabindranath Tagore (Nobel Laureate Indian Poet)
“The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures.
It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth in numberless blades of grass and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers.
It is the same life that is rocked in the ocean-cradle of birth and of death, in ebb and in flow.
I feel my limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life.
And my pride is from the life-throb of ages dancing in my blood this moment.”
(Rabindranath Tagore from Gitanjali)
This is another picture of that old man who came to take a bath near Nepali ghat along the Ganges in Varanasi (Benaras).
I really enjoyed taking several shots of each layers of cloth that he was adding hythmic measures over his body.
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© All photographs are copyrighted and all rights reserved.
Please do not use any photographs without permission (even for private use).
The use of any work without consent of the artist is PROHIBITED and will lead automatically to consequences.
Lamp of Love
Light, oh where is the light?
Kindle it with the burning fire of desire!
There is the lamp but never a flicker of a flame---is such thy fate, my heart?
Ah, death were better by far for thee!
Misery knocks at thy door,
and her message is that thy lord is wakeful,
and he calls thee to the love-tryst through the darkness of night.
The sky is overcast with clouds and the rain is ceaseless.
I know not what this is that stirs in me---I know not its meaning.
A moment's flash of lightning drags down a deeper gloom on my sight,
and my heart gropes for the path to where the music of the night calls me.
Light, oh where is the light!
Kindle it with the burning fire of desire!
It thunders and the wind rushes screaming through the void.
The night is black as a black stone.
Let not the hours pass by in the dark.
Kindle the lamp of love with thy life.
GITANJALI
Song offerings by
Rabindranath Tagore
He it is, the innermost one, who awakens my being with his deep hidden touches.
He it is who puts his enchantment upon these eyes and joyfully plays on the chords of my heart in varied cadence of pleasure and pain.
He it is who weaves the web of this maya in evanescent hues of gold and silver, blue and green, and lets peep out through the folds his feet, at whose touch I forget myself.
Days come and ages pass, and it is ever he who moves my heart in many a name, in many a guise, in many a rapture of joy and of sorrow.
-Rabindranath Tagore (Nobel Laureate Indian Poet -1864-1940 ) from 'Gitanjali '
LIGHT
"Light, my light, the world-filling light, the eye-kissing light, heart-sweetening light!
Ah, the light dances, my darling, at the centre of my life; the light strikes, my darling,
the chords of my love; the sky opens, the wind runs wild, laughter passes over the earth.
The butterflies spread their sails on the sea of light. Lilies and jasmines surge
up on the crest of the waves of light.
The light is shattered into gold on every cloud, my darling, and it scatters gems
in profusion.
Mirth spreads from leaf to leaf, my darling, and gladness without measure.
The heaven's river has drowned its banks and the flood of joy is abroad."
GITANJALI
The offering songs
Rabindranath Tagore
He it is who weaves the web of this maya in evanescent hues of gold and silver, blue and green, and lets peep out through the folds his feet, at whose touch I forget myself.
Days come and ages pass, and it is ever he who moves my heart in many a name, in many a guise, in many a rapture of joy and of sorrow.
-Rabindranath Tagore (Nobel Laureate Indian Poet -1864-1940 ) from 'Gitanjali '
Distant Time
I know not from what distant time
thou art ever coming nearer to meet me.
Thy sun and stars can never
keep thee hidden from me for aye.
In many a morning and eve
thy footsteps have been heard
and thy messenger has come
within my heart
and called me in secret.
I know not only why today
my life is all astir,
and a feeling of tremulous joy
is passing through my heart.
It is as if the time were come
to wind up my work,
and I feel in the air a faint smell
of thy sweet presence.
GITANJALI
The song offering
Rabindranath Tagore
For anyone interested the book at archive.org, with the same binding it seems. (Gitanjali is also there)
"This is my delight,
thus to wait and watch at the wayside
where shadow chases light"..
R Tagore from 'Gitanjali'
"Maiden Grass - Miscanthus sinensis 'Gracillimus' against the setting sun in Toronto, Ontario"
Decorated WAP7#30264 AJNI Loco hauling Gitanjali Express from Mumbai which is first train behind AC Loco.
LP & ALP capturing this historical moment
“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 domestic walls;
Where words come out from the depth of truth;
Where tireless 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."
(From the collection of poems "Gitanjali" by Rabindranath Tagore)
This is a picture of a wall in New Delhi showing a graffiti with the silhouette of Nargis in the epic melodrama “Mother India” shot in 1957 representing India as a nation in the aftermath of independence.
I changed a few colours in the background in order to celebrate the spirit of freedom on Independence Day...
Indian National Anthem by AR Rahman and some of the best Indian artists:
Join the photographer at www.facebook.com/laurent.goldstein.photography
© All photographs are copyrighted and all rights reserved.
Please do not use any photographs without permission (even for private use).
The use of any work without consent of the artist is PROHIBITED and will lead automatically to consequences.
The day is no more, the shadow is upon the earth. It is time that I go to the stream to fill my pitcher.
The evening air is eager with the sad music of the water. Ah, it calls me out into the dusk. In the lonely lane there is no passer-by, the wind is up, the ripples are rampant in the river.
I know not if I shall come back home. I know not whom I shall chance to meet. There at the fording in the little boat the unknown man plays upon his lute.
-Rabindranath Tagore ( Nobel Laureate, Indian Poet ) "Gitanjali "
Light, my light, the world-filling light, the eye-kissing light, heart-sweetening light!
Ah, the light dances, my darling, at the centre of my life; the light strikes, my darling,
the chords of my love; the sky opens, the wind runs wild, laughter passes over the earth.
The butterflies spread their sails on the sea of light. Lilies and jasmines surge up on the crest of the waves of light.
The light is shattered into gold on every cloud, my darling, and it scatters gems in profusion.
Mirth spreads from leaf to leaf, my darling, and gladness without measure. The heaven's river has drowned its banks and the flood of joy is abroad. *
*Rabindranath Tagore
GITANJALI
First Commercial service to get live AC Locomotive i.e AJNI WAP-7#30264 from Mumbai CST after DC to AC Conversion!
蓮花開放的那一天，唉，我思緒飄零，卻不知道原因。我空著花籃，冷落了花兒。
憂傷隨時襲上心頭，我從夢中驚起，察覺到南風中有一股甜美的奇香。那淡淡的甜潤，讓我渴望得心痛。在我看來，這彷彿是夏日渴望的氣息，在尋求圓滿。
當時我不知道它距離我如此之近，而且屬於我。這絶妙的甜美，已經在我自己心靈的深處開花。
---泰戈爾《吉檀迦利 第20首》
Lotus
On the day when the lotus bloomed, alas, my mind was straying, and I knew it not. My basket was empty and the flower remained unheeded.
Only now and again a sadness fell upon me, and I started up from my dream and felt a sweet trace of a strange fragrance in the south wind.That vague sweetness made my heart ache with longing and it seemed to me that is was the eager breath of the summer seeking for its completion.
I knew not then that it was so near, that it was mine,
and that this perfect sweetness had blossomed in the depth of my own heart.
--Robindranath Tagorol 《Gitanjali》
When my play was with thee I never questioned who thou wert.
I knew nor shyness nor fear, my life was boisterous.
In the early morning thou wouldst call me from my sleep like my own comrade and lead me running from glade to glade.
On those days I never cared to know the meaning of songs thou sangest to me. Only my voice took up the tunes, and my heart danced in their cadence.
Now, when the playtime is over, what is this sudden sight that is come upon me? The world with eyes bent upon thy feet stands in awe with all its silent stars.
Rabindranath Tagore ( Nobel Laureate, Indian Poet) Gitanjali
Yes, I know, this is nothing but thy love, O beloved of my heart ---this golden light that dances upon the leaves, these idle clouds sailing across the sky, this passing breeze leaving its coolness upon on my forehead.
The morning light has flooded my eyes---this is thy message to my heart. Thy face is bent from above, thy eyes look down on my eyes, and my heart has touched thy feet.
~Tagore~
Gitanjali
Explored - March 22nd.
Song No. 44
From “Gitanjali (Song offerings)” by Rabindranath Tagore
This is my delight, thus to wait and
watch at the wayside where shadow
chases light and the rain comes in the
wake of the summer.
Messengers, with tidings from un-
known skies, greet me and speed along
the road. My heart is glad within, and
the breath of the passing breeze is
sweet.
From dawn till dusk I sit here before
my door, and I know that of a sudden
the happy moment will arrive when I
shall see.
In the meanwhile I smile and I sing
all alone. In the meanwhile the air is
filling with the perfume of promise.
(The above shot is dedicated to someone who is the inspiration of my photography)
The shadow of dim delight
I gave myself up for lost
in the depth of a glad humiliation
---in the shadow of a dim delight.
The repose of the sun-embroidered green gloom
slowly spread over my heart.
I forgot for what I had traveled,
and I surrendered my mind without struggle
to the maze of shadows and songs.
At last, when I woke from my slumber and opened my eyes,
I saw thee standing by me, flooding my sleep with thy smile.
How I had feared that the path was long and wearisome,
and the struggle to reach thee was hard!
GITANJALI
Offering songs by
Rabindranath Tagore
I’ve never seen a spider web
with a heart space in the middle
of what a soul might desire
spaciousness
freedom
stillness
emptiness yet fullness
empty of preconceptions
emptiness
empty of what (a separate existence)
clear of clutter
room for Divine
space to breathe
~
“Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me.”—Psalm 51:10
“Listen, Shariputra,
Form is emptiness, emptiness is form.
Form is not other than emptiness;
Emptiness is not other than form.
The same is true with feelings, perceptions, mental formations and consciousness.”
—Buddha’s words, Heart Sutra, from Thich Nhat Hanh’s book “The Heart of Understanding”
“Empty yourself of everything;
Let your mind be at peace.
While ten thousand things rise and fall
the Self contemplates their return.
Each of them grows and flourishes and
then returns to the source.
To return to the source is stillness,
which is to fulfil the way of nature.
The way of nature is constant.
Knowing constancy is insight.”
—Lao Tsu - Tao Te Ching
“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. As 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. – Tagore, Gitanjali
“The true contemplative is not one who prepares his mind for a particular message that he wants or expects to hear, but is one who remains empty because he knows that he can never expect to anticipate the words that will transform his darkness into light. He does not even anticipate a special kind of transformation. He does not demand light instead of darkness. He waits on the Word of God in silence, and, when he is “answered,” it is not so much by a word that bursts into his silence. It is by his silence itself, suddenly, inexplicably revealing itself to him as a word of great power, full of the voice of God.”—Thomas Merton, “Dialogue with Silence”, ed. Jonathan Motaldo
AJNI HOG WAP7 37147 Arrives At Jharsuguda Jn. With 12860 Howrah-Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj (T) Mumbai Gitanjali Express !
চিত্ত যেথা ভয়শূন্য
চিত্ত যেথা ভয়শূন্য, উচ্চ যেথা শির,
জ্ঞান যেথা মুক্ত, যেথা গৃহের প্রাচীর
আপন প্রাঙ্গণতলে দিবসশর্বরী
বসুধারে রাখে নাই খন্ড ক্ষুদ্র করি,
যেথা বাক্য হৃদয়ের উৎসমুখ হতে
উচ্ছ্বসিয়া উঠে, যেথা নির্বারিত স্রোতে
দেশে দেশে দিশে দিশে কর্মধারা ধায়
অজস্র সহস্রবিধ চরিতার্থতায়–
যেথা তুচ্ছ আচারের মরুবালুরাশি
বিচারের স্রোতঃপথ ফেলে নাই গ্রাসি,
পৌরুষেরে করে নি শতধা; নিত্য যেথা
তুমি সর্ব কর্ম চিন্তা আনন্দের নেতা–
নিজ হস্তে নির্দয় আঘাত করি, পিতঃ,
ভারতেরে সেই স্বর্গে করো জাগরিত।
– রবীন্দ্রনাথ ঠাকুর (নৈবেদ্য হতে সংগ্রহীত)
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
Where tireless 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.
– Rabindranath Thakur (Collected from Naivedya)
Thou ever pourest for me the fresh draught of thy wine of various colours and fragrance, filling this earthen vessel to the brim.
My world will light its hundred different lamps with thy flame and place them before the altar of thy temple.
No, I will never shut the doors of my senses. The delights of sight and hearing and touch will bear thy delight.
Yes, all my illusions will burn into illumination of joy, and all my desires ripen into fruits of love.
-Rabindranath Tagore ( Nobel Laureate, Indian Poet) 'Gitanjali'
MUMBAI, INDIA - JULY 31: Anu Ranjan with daughter Anushka Ranjan walks the ramp showcasing jewellery by Gitanjali jewellers on the opening day of second season of IIJW, to support Beti, a campaign against female foeticide, in Mumbai on July 31,2011.(Photo by Yogen Shah/The India Today Group via Getty Images)
The day is no more, the shadow is upon the earth. It is time for me to leave.
The evening air is eager with the sad music of the water.
Ah, it calls me out into the dusk.
In the lonely lane there is no passer-by, the wind is up, the ripples are rampant in the water.
I know not if I shall come back home. I know not whom I shall chance to meet.
There at the fording in the little boat the unknown man plays upon his lute.
-Rabindranath Tagore (1864-1940) 'Gitanjali '