Gitanjali — Song 88
Gitanjali — Song 88
Rabindranath Tagore
Deity of the ruined temple! The broken strings of _Vina_ sing no more
your praise. The bells in the evening proclaim not your time of
worship. The air is still and silent about you.
In your desolate dwelling comes the vagrant spring breeze. It brings
the tidings of flowers—the flowers that for your worship are offered no
more.
Your worshipper of old wanders ever longing for favour still refused.
In the eventide, when fires and shadows mingle with the gloom of dust,
he wearily comes back to the ruined temple with hunger in his heart.
Many a festival day comes to you in silence, deity of the ruined
temple. Many a night of worship goes away with lamp unlit.
Many new images are built by masters of cunning art and carried to the
holy stream of oblivion when their time is come.
Only the deity of the ruined temple remains unworshipped in deathless
neglect.
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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