Gitanjali — Song 100
Gitanjali — Song 100
Rabindranath Tagore
I dive down into the depth of the ocean of forms, hoping to gain the
perfect pearl of the formless.
No more sailing from harbour to harbour with this my weather-beaten
boat. The days are long passed when my sport was to be tossed on waves.
And now I am eager to die into the deathless.
Into the audience hall by the fathomless abyss where swells up the
music of toneless strings I shall take this harp of my life.
I shall tune it to the notes of forever, and when it has sobbed out its
last utterance, lay down my silent harp at the feet of the silent.
Verse breaks and indentation are preserved. Wrapped lines have a hanging indent. Width adapts to your screen.
Complete 103-poem English Gitanjali, translated by the author and published in 1912. · Translated by Rabindranath Tagore
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