Stray birds

These are a few lines from Stray Birds by Rabindranath Tagore. Worth inspiring and heartening. Anyone who loves poetic philosophy loves these as well. I have picked my favourite ones.

Here they are :

STRAY birds of summer come to my window to sing and fly away.
And yellow leaves of autumn, which have no songs, flutter and fall there with a sigh.

THE world has opened its heart of light in the morning.
Come out, my heart, with thy love to meet it.

DARKNESS travels towards light, but blindness towards death.

"IN the moon thou sendest thy love letters to me," said the night to the sun.
"I leave my answers in tears upon the grass."

"WHO is there to take up my duties?" asked the setting sun.
"I shall do what I can, my Master," said the earthen lamp.

IF you shed tears when you miss the sun, you also miss the stars.

"WE, the rustling leaves, have a voice that answers the storms, but who are you so silent?"
"I am a mere flower."

THE bird wishes it were a cloud. The cloud wishes it were a bird.

GOD waits for man to regain his childhood in wisdom.

LET them live who choose in their own hissing world of fireworks.
My heart longs for thy stars, my God.

THEY light their own lamps and sing their own words in their temples.
But the birds sing thy name in thine own morning light,--for thy name is joy.

I CAST my own shadow upon my path, because I have a lamp that has not been lighted.

I HAVE learnt the simple meaning of thy whispers in flowers and sunshine--teach me to know thy words in pain and death.

OUR desire lends the colours of the rainbow to the mere mists and vapours of life.

THEY throw their shadows before them who carry their lantern on their back.

GOD loves man's lamp lights better than his own great stars.

THE leaf becomes flower when it loves.
The flower becomes fruit when it worships.

DREAM is a wife who must talk.
Sleep is a husband who silently suffers.

"HOW far are you from me, O Fruit?"
"I am hidden in your heart, O Flower."

WE read the world wrong and say that it deceives us.

THE mind, sharp but not broad, sticks at every point but does not move.

MY wishes are fools, they shout across thy songs, my Master.
Let me but listen.


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