The Gardener XLVI: You Left Me

Rabindranath Tagore 1861 (Kolkata) – 1941 (Kolkata)



You left me and went on your way.
    I thought I should mourn for you
and set your solitary image in my
heart wrought in a golden song.
    But ah, my evil fortune, time is
short.
    Youth wanes year after year; the
spring days are fugitive; the frail
flowers die for nothing, and the wise
man warns me that life is but a
dewdrop on the lotus leaf.
    Should I neglect all this to gaze after
one who has turned her back on me?
    That would be rude and foolish,
for time is short.
    Then, come, my rainy nights with
pattering feet; smile, my golden
autumn; come, careless April, scatter-
ing your kisses abroad.
    You come, and you, and you also!
    My loves, you know we are mortals.
Is it wise to break one's heart for the
one who takes her heart away? For
time is short.
    It is sweet to sit in a corner to muse
and write in rhymes that you are all
my world.
    It is heroic to hug one's sorrow and
determine not to be consoled.
    But a fresh face peeps across my
door and raise its eyes to my eyes.
    I cannot but wipe away my tears
and change the tune of my song.
    For time is short.

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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on March 05, 2023

1:05 min read
70

Quick analysis:

Scheme abcdefghigjklmFnokpqrgsftuvwxciydF
Closest metre Iambic tetrameter
Characters 1,087
Words 215
Stanzas 1
Stanza Lengths 34

Rabindranath Tagore

Rabindranath Tagore FRAS was an Indian polymath—poet, writer, playwright, composer, philosopher, social reformer and painter. He reshaped Bengali literature and music as well as Indian art with Contextual Modernism in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. more…

All Rabindranath Tagore poems | Rabindranath Tagore Books

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