Rabindranath Tagore Quotes

Let him only see the thorns who has eyes to see the rose.

If you shut your door to all errors truth will be shut out.

I have on my table a violin string. It is free to move in any direction I like. If I twist one end, it responds; it is free.
But it is not free to sing. So I take it and fix it into my violin. I bind it and when it is bound, it is free for the first time to sing.

Read books when you are free, read minds when you are'nt....but do read...

ثمة قفر فسيح اسمه القلب،في أعماقه أضعت سبيلي
.

The Taj Mahal rises above the banks of the river like a solitary tear suspended on the cheek of time.

to tyrannize for the country is to tyrannize over the country

I understand the voice of your stars and the silence of your trees.

The echo mocks her origin to prove she is the original.

A message came from my youth of vanished days, saying, 'I wait for you among the quivering of unborn May, where smiles ripen for tears and hours ache with songs unsung.'

It says, 'Come to me across the worn-out track of age, through the gates of death. For dreams fade, hopes fail, the fathered fruits of the year decay, but I am the eternal truth, and you shall meet me again and again in your voyage of life from shore to shore.

If one had to fill in, little by little, the gap between day and night, it would take an eternity to do it. But the sun rises and the darkness is dispelled- a moment is sufficient to overcome an infinite distance.

استَيْقَظْتُ
فَوَجَدْتُ رِسَالَتِه تَأْتِيني مَع الصَّبَاحِ
لا أَدْرِي مَا تَقُولُ الرِّسالةُ
لأَنِّي لاَ أَعْرِفُ القرَاءَةَ
سَأَدَعُ العَالِم الحَكِيم مُنْصَرِفاً إِلى كُتُبِهِ
وَلَسْتُ أَرْغَب في مُضَايَقَتِهِ
مَنْ يَدْرِي إِذا كَان سَيعْرِفُ مَا تَقُولُه الرِّسَالة
سأَطْبَعُهَا على جَبِينِي
وأَشُدُّها إِلى صَدْرِي
وحِينَ يَشيِيعُ السُّكُونُ في اللّيْلِ
وتَسْطَعُ النُّجُوم وَاحِدَةً بَعْدَ أُخْرَى
سَأَنْشُرَها فِي حِضْنِي
وأَظَلُّ صَامِتاً.
إن حفِيف الأَوْرَاق
سَيَتْلُوهَا عَلَيَّ بِصَوْتٍ عَالٍ.
ونُجُومُ الثُرَيَّا السَّبْع
ستُغَنِّيَها لِي مِن السَّمَاءِ.
لاَ أَعْرِفُ كَيْف أَعْثُرُ عَلَى مَا أَبْحثُ عَنْهُ
وَلاَ أَدْرِي مَا الذِي يَنْبَغِي عَلَيَّ مَعْرِفَتُهُ وَتَعلُّمُهُ
ولَكِن هَذِه الرِّسَالَة
خَفَّفَت أَعْبَائِي
وأَحَالَت أَفْكَارِي إِلي أُغْنِيَاتٍ.

If someone smells a flower and says he does not understand, the reply to him is: there is nothing to understand, it is only a scent. If he persists, saying: that I know, but what does it all mean? Then one has either to change the subject, or make it more abstruse by saying that the scent is the shape which the universal joy takes in the flower.

تقبَّلني هذه المرَّة يارب .. تقبَّلني ..
لا تبتعد عنِّي .. هاك قلبي .. و لتظلّ معي ..
لا أُريد تكرار تلك الأيام التي تخلو منك ..
فخلِّها تصير إلى تراب و لتتفتّح حياتي الآن على نورِك ..
لتبقى يقظة إلى الأبد ...

لا أدري ما الذي أضلّني .. و أيَّ وعدٍ أغواني ..
فرحتُ أهيمُ على وجهي في الدروب و بين المروج ..
ربّ ادنُ بوجهك من قلبي .. و بلِّغني رسالةً من عندك ...

خطايا كثيرة .. ضلالات شتّى .. ما تزال تكمُنُ خبِيئةً في قلبي ..
لا تُبعدني ثانيةً بسبب ذلك .. يـــــــــارب .. بل طهِّرها بالنُّـــور

The song 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…..

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…..

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.