Poem – Maya – Rabindranath Tagore 

That I should make much of myself and turn it on all sides, 

thus casting colored shadows on thy radiance 

—such is thy Maya. 
Thou settest a barrier in thine own being 

and then callest thy severed self in myriad notes. 

This thy self-separation has taken body in me. 
The poignant song is echoed through all the sky in many-coloued tears 

and smiles, alarms and hopes; waves rise up and sink again, 

dreams break and form. 

In me is thy own defeat of self. 
This screen that thou hast raised is painted with innumerable figures 

with the brush of the night and the day. 

Behind it thy seat is woven in wondrous mysteries of curves, 

casting away all barren lines of straightness. 
The great pageant of thee and me has overspread the sky. 

With the tune of thee and me all the air is vibrant, 

and all ages pass with the hiding and seeking of thee and me. 

Poem – Marah Milan (Death Wedding) – Rabindranath Tagore

Why do you speak so softly, Death, Death, 

Creep upon me, watch me so stealthily? 

This is not how a lover should behave. 

When evening flowers droop upon their tired 

Stems, when cattle are brought in from the fields 

After a whole day’s grazing, you, Death, 

Death, approach me with such gentle steps, 

Settle yourself immovably by my side. 

I cannot understand the things you say. 
Alas, will this be how you will take me, Death, 

Death? Like a thief, laying heavy sleep 

On my eyes as you descend to my heart? 

Will you thus let your tread be a slow beat 

In my sleep-numbed blood, your jingling ankle-bells 

A drowsy rumble in my ear? Will you, Death, 

Death, wrap me, finally, in your cold 

Arms and carry me away while I dream? 

I do not know why you thus come and go. 
Tell me, is this the way you wed, Death, 

Death? Unceremonially, with no 

Weight of sacrament or blessing or prayer? 

Will you come with your massy tawny hair 

Unkempt, unbound into a bright coil-crown? 

Will no one bear your victory-flag before 

Or after, will no torches glow like red 

Eyes along the river, Death, Death? 

Will earth not quake in terror at your step? 
When fierce-eyed Siva came to take his bride, 

Remember all the pomp and trappings, Death, 

Death: the flapping tiger-skins he wore; 

His roaring bull; the serpents hissing round 

His hair; the bom-bom sound as he slapped his cheeks;

The necklace of skulls swinging round his neck; 

The sudden raucous music as he blew 

His horn to announce his coming – was this not 

A better way of wedding, Death, Death? 
And as that deathly wedding-party’s din 

Grew nearer, Death, Death, tears of joy 

Filled Gauri’s eyes and the garments at her breast 

Quivered; her left eye fluttered and her heart 

Pounded; her body quailed with thrilled delight 

And her mind ran away with itself, Death, Death; 

Her mother wailed and smote her head at the thought 

Of receiving so wild a groom; and in his mind 

Her father agreed calamity had struck. 
Why must you always come like a thief, Death, 

Death, always silently, at night’s end, 

Leaving only tears? Come to me festively, 

Make the whole night ring with your triumph, blow 

Your victory-conch, dress me in blood-red robes, 

Grasp me by the hand and sweep me away! 

Pay no heed to what others may think, Death, 

Death, for I shall of my own free will 

Resort to you if you but take me gloriously. 
If I am immersed in work in my room 

When you arrive, Death, Death, then break 

My work, thrust my unreadiness aside. 

If I am sleeping, sinking all desires 

In the dreamy pleasure of my bed, or I lie 

With apathy gripping my heart and my eyes 

Flickering between sleep and waking, fill 

Your conch with your destructive breath and blow, 

Death, Death, and I shall run to you. 
I shall go to where your boat is moored, 

Death, Death, to the sea where the wind rolls 

Darkness towards me from infinity. 

I may see black clouds massing in the far 

North-east corner of the sky; fiery snakes 

Of lightning may rear up with their hoods raised, 

But I shall not flinch in unfounded fear – 

I shall pass silently, unswervingly 

Across that red storm-sea, Death, Death.

Poem – Lotus – Rabindranath Tagore

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.