English poem
Gitanjali, LXXXIX (No more noisy, loud words from…)
No more noisy, loud words from me—such is my master’s will. Henceforth I deal in whispers. The speech of my heart will be carried on in murmurings of a song.
Men hasten to the King’s market. All the buyers and sellers are there. But I have my untimely leave in the middle of the day, in the thick of work.
Let then the flowers come out in my garden, though it is not their time; and let the midday bees strike up their lazy hum.
Full many an hour have I spent in the strife of the good and the evil, but now it is the pleasure of my playmate of the empty days to draw my heart on to him; and I know not why is this sudden call to what useless inconsequence!
More by Rabindranath Tagore
- Gitanjali, LXXVI (Day after day, O lord of…)
- Gitanjali, LXXVIII (When the creation was new and…)
- Gitanjali, LXXXI (On many an idle day have…)
- Gitanjali, LXXXII (Time is endless in thy hands…)
- Gitanjali, LXXXV (When the warriors came out first…)
- Gitanjali, LXXXVI (Death, thy servant, is at my…)
- Gitanjali, LXXXVII (In desperate hope I go and…)
- Gitanjali, V (I ask for a moment’s indulgence…)