English poem
Gitanjali, XXIII (Art thou abroad on this stormy…)
Art thou abroad on this stormy night on thy journey of love, my friend? The sky groans like one in despair.
I have no sleep tonight. Ever and again I open my door and look out on the darkness, my friend!
I can see nothing before me. I wonder where lies thy path!
By what dim shore of the ink-black river, by what far edge of the frowning forest, through what mazy depth of gloom art thou threading thy course to come to me, my friend?
More by Rabindranath Tagore
- Gitanjali, XVII (I am only waiting for love…)
- Gitanjali, XVIII (Clouds heap upon clouds and it…)
- Gitanjali, XX (On the day when the lotus…)
- Gitanjali, XXI (I must launch out my boat.…)
- Gitanjali, XXV (In the night of weariness let…)
- Gitanjali, XXVI (He came and sat by my…)
- Gitanjali, XXVII (Light, oh where is the light?…)
- Gitanjali, XXVIII (Obstinate are the trammels, but my…)