Gitanjali — Song 40
Gitanjali — Song 40
Rabindranath Tagore
The rain has held back for days and days, my God, in my arid heart. The
horizon is fiercely naked—not the thinnest cover of a soft cloud, not
the vaguest hint of a distant cool shower.
Send thy angry storm, dark with death, if it is thy wish, and with
lashes of lightning startle the sky from end to end.
But call back, my lord, call back this pervading silent heat, still and
keen and cruel, burning the heart with dire despair.
Let the cloud of grace bend low from above like the tearful look of the
mother on the day of the father’s wrath.
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Complete 103-poem English Gitanjali, translated by the author and published in 1912. · Translated by Rabindranath Tagore
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