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Rabindranath Tagore

1861 AD — 1941 AD

Bengali writer, composer and educator whose work crosses poetry and public life. The linked Gitanjali offers his own English prose translations; supplied archive attributions retain their uncertainty.

Author and source reference ↗
▷ Play this voiceSearch within this voice ↗Place in time ↗lifelovetimefaithlearningnaturewisdomdeath

Life and writing

Rabindranath Tagore lived from 1861 to 1941. He wrote poetry, fiction and plays, composed music and worked in education. His school at Santiniketan and the later Visva-Bharati institution put educational ideas into practice. This wider activity offers a useful frame for reading his work: a brief lyrical passage belongs to a writer whose interests also reached learning, community and cultural exchange.

Visva-Bharati — Rabindranath Tagore, the founder ↗ Founder biography: lifetime, literary forms, music and educational institutions

Gitanjali: Song Offerings presents English prose translations made by Tagore from Bengali, with a separate introduction by W. B. Yeats. Read its numbered poems as complete units and distinguish the translator-author’s voice from the introduction. The edition is a reading destination for this writer; its presence does not establish that the separately supplied quotations in this archive occur in Gitanjali or use his own English wording.

Project Gutenberg — Gitanjali, PG 7164 ↗ PG7164 title page, author-made prose translations and separate introduction; original reading guidance

Reading this voice

Begin with a complete numbered poem in Gitanjali, then follow its images through the surrounding lines. Ask who speaks, who is addressed and how a concrete image changes an abstract idea. The selected archive passages carry contributor-supplied attributions that have not been independently authenticated here; they are editorial starting points, not verified excerpts from this edition. The profile’s life years do not date those entries: their undated status and original wording remain unchanged.

Subjects to explore

Editorial reading connections, distinct from the archive’s word matching.

A work to read

Begin with these archive passages

Editorial starting points from this author’s existing entries.

Profile sources and editorial status

Original agent-assisted editorial profile, checked 2026-10-05. No human review is recorded. Life dates are recorded to the year; they do not date individual quotations.

Archive entries

01Undated
Unending LoveI seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times...In life after life, in age after age, forever.My spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace of songs,That you take as a gift, wear round your neck in your many forms,In life after life, in age after age, forever.Whenever I hear old chronicles of love, it's age old pain,It's ancient tale of being apart or together.As I stare on and on into the past, in the end you emerge,Clad in the light of a pole-star, piercing the darkness of time.You become an image of what is remembered forever.You and I have floated here on the stream that brings from the fount.At the heart of time, love of one for another.We have played along side millions of lovers,Shared in the same shy sweetness of meeting,the distressful tears of farewell,Old love but in shapes that renew and renew forever.Today it is heaped at your feet, it has found its end in youThe love of all man's days both past and forever:Universal joy, universal sorrow, universal life.The memories of all loves merging with this one love of ours -And the songs of every poet past and forever.
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18Undated
Religion is not a fractional thing that can be doled out in fixed weekly or daily measures as one among various subjects in the school syllabus. It is the truth of our complete being, the consciousness of our personal relationship with the infinite; it is the true center of gravity of our life. This we can attain during our childhood by daily living in a place where the truth of the spiritual world is not obscured by a crowd of necessities assuming artificial importance; where life is simple, surrounded by fullness of leisure, by ample space and pure air and profound peace of nature; and where men live with a perfect faith in the eternal life before them.
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23Undated
Obstinate are the trammels, but my heart aches when I try to break them. Freedom is all I want, but to hope for it I feel ashamed. I am certain that priceless wealth is in thee, and that thou art my best friend, but I have not the heart to sweep away the tinsel that fills my room. The shroud that covers me is a shroud of dust and death; I hate it, yet hug it in love. My debts are large, my failures great, my shame secret and heavy; yet when I come to ask for my good, I quake in fear lest my prayer be granted.
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