The Complete Poetical Works of Rabindranath Tagore. Rabindranath Tagore

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       Rabindranath Tagore

      The Complete Poetical Works of Rabindranath Tagore

      Gitanjali, The Gardener, Fruit-Gathering, The Crescent Moon, Stray Birds, Lover's Gift and Crossing, The Fugitive, The Child, Songs of Kabir, My Golden Bengal, With Author’s Autobiography

      

      e-artnow, 2020

       Contact: [email protected]

      EAN 4064066059552

      Table of Contents

       My Golden Bengal (Amar Shonar Bangla)

       The Morning Song of India (Jana Gana Mana)

       Gitanjali

       The Gardener

       Fruit-Gathering

       The Crescent Moon

       Stray Birds

       Lover's Gift and Crossing

       The Fugitive

       The Child

       Fireflies

       Songs of Kabir

       My Reminiscences – Autobiography

      MY GOLDEN BENGAL

      (AMAR SHONAR BANGLA)

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       My Bengal of Gold

       Amar Shonar Bangla

      MY BENGAL OF GOLD

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      My Bengal of Gold (Precious),

       I love you.

      Forever your skies, your air set my heart in tune

       As if it were a flute.

      In spring, O mother mine, the fragrance from your mango groves

       Makes me wild with joy

       Ah, what a thrill!

       In autumn, O mother mine,

       In the full blossomed paddy fields

       I have seen spread all over sweet smiles.

      In spring, O mother mine, the fragrance from your mango groves

       Makes me wild with joy

       Ah, what a thrill!

       In autumn, O mother mine,

       In the full blossomed paddy fields

       I have seen spread all over sweet smiles.

      O mother mine, words from your lips

       Are like nectar to my ears.

       Ah, what a thrill!

       If sadness, O mother mine, casts a gloom on your face,

       eyes are filled with tears!

      AMAR SHONAR BANGLA

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      Amar shonar Bangla,

       Ami tomae bhalobashi.

      Chirodin tomar akash,

       Tomar batash,

       Amar prane

       Bajae bãshi.

      O ma, phagune tor amer bone

       Ghrane pagol kôre,

       Mori hae, hae re,

       O ma, ôghrane tor bhôra khete

       Ami ki dekhechhi modhur hashi.

      Ki shobha, ki chhaea go,

       Ki sneho, ki maea go,

       Ki ãchol bichhaeechho

       Bôţer mule,

       Nodir kule kule!

      Ma, tor mukher bani

       Amar kane lage shudhar môto,

       Mori hae, hae re,

       Ma, tor bôdonkhani molin hole,

       Ami nôeon ami nôeonjôle bhashi.

      THE MORNING SONG OF INDIA

      (JANA GANA MANA)

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      THE MORNING SONG OF INDIA (JANA GANA MANA)

      Thou art the ruler of the minds of all people, dispenser of India's destiny. Thy name rouses the hearts of the Panjaub, Sind, Gujarat and Maratha, of the Dravida and Orissa and Bengal; it echoes in the hills of the Vindhyas and Himalayas, mingles in the music of the Jamuna and Ganges and is chanted by the waves of the Indian Sea. They pray for thy blessings and sing thy praise. The saving of all people waits in thy hand, thou dispenser of India's destiny.

      Victory, Victory, Victory to thee.

      Day and night thy voice goes out from land to land calling the Hindus, Buddhists, Shikhs and Jains round thy throne and the Parsees, Mussalmans and Christians. The East and West join hands in their prayer to thee, and the garland of love is woven. Thou bringest the hearts of all people into the harmony of one life, thou dispenser of India's destiny.

      Victory, victory, victory to thee.

      The procession of pilgrims passes over the endless road rugged with the rise and fall of nations; and it resounds with the thunder of thy wheels, Eternal Charioteer! Through the dire days of doom thy trumpet sounds and men are led by thee across death. Thy finger points the path to all people, Oh dispenser of Indias destiny!

      Victory, victory, victory to thee!

      The darkness was dense and deep was the night. My country lay in a deathlike silence of swoon. But thy mother arms were round her and thine eyes gazed upon her troubled face in sleepless love through her hours of ghastly dreams. Thou art the companion and the saviour of the people in their sorrows, thou dispenser of India's destiny,

      Victory, victory, victory to thee!

      The night fades; the light breaks over the peaks of the Eastern hills; the birds begin to sing and the morning breeze carries the breath of new life. The rays of the