SigPhiSigPhi

Gitanjali (Song Offerings)

Rabindranath Tagore

Language:
English
Status:
Complete work
Authorship:
Written by the author
Condition of the text:
No scanning noise detected (automatic measure over the whole text, not checked by hand)
Extent:
~18,900 words · 90 passages
Cite this work
  • APARabindranath Tagore. (n.d.). Gitanjali (Song Offerings). Digital reproduction: SigPhi. https://sigphiai.com/en/works/rabindranath-tagore/gitanjali-song-offerings
  • MLARabindranath Tagore. Gitanjali (Song Offerings). Digital reproduction, SigPhi, https://sigphiai.com/en/works/rabindranath-tagore/gitanjali-song-offerings.
  • ChicagoRabindranath Tagore. Gitanjali (Song Offerings). Digital reproduction, SigPhi. https://sigphiai.com/en/works/rabindranath-tagore/gitanjali-song-offerings.

Reference to the edition that SigPhi reproduces: SigPhi is its digital reproduction, not its publisher. The edition's year is not in the metadata (hence "n.d."), and the translator appears only when recorded.

What it is about

Gitanjali (1912): the poems that won him the Nobel.

Context and history

Tagore translated them himself from Bengali into English on a sea crossing, and Yeats wrote the preface. In 1913 he became the first non-European to win the prize for literature. **Warning: this is the author's own English version, not the Bengali original**, and he himself said they were two different books.

Editorial context, not a citable source: unlike the passages of the work itself, these statements cannot be checked against the corpus.

How it begins
The spring has done its flowering and taken leave. And now with the burden of faded futile flowers I wait and linger. The waves have become clamorous, and upon the bank in the shady lane the yellow leaves flutter and fall. What emptiness do you gaze upon! Do you not feel a thrill passing through the air with the notes of the far away song floating from the other shore? GITANJALI In the deep shadows of the rainy July, with secret steps, thou walkest, silent as night, eluding all watchers. To-day the morning has closed its eyes, heedless of the insistent calls of the loud east wind, and a thick veil has been drawn over the ever-wakeful blue sky. The woodlands have hushed their songs, and doors are all shut at every house. Thou art the solitary wayfarer in this deserted street. Oh my only friend, my best beloved, the gates are open in my house — do not pass by like a dream. Art thou abroad on this stormy night on the journey of love, my friend.^ The sky groans like one in despair. I have no sleep to-night. Ever and GITANJALI 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.^ If the day is done, if birds sing no more, if the wind has flagged tired, then draw the veil of darkness thick upon me, even as thou hast wrapt the earth with the coverlet of sleep and tenderly closed the petals of the droop¬ ing lotus at dusk.…

Read the full work →

← Back to Rabindranath Tagore