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Gitanjali 90

1861 –

1941

On the day when death will knock at

thy door what wilt thou offer to him?

Oh, I will set before my guest the

full vessel of my life-I will never let

him go with empty hands.

All the sweet vintage of all my

autumn days and summer nights, all

the earnings and gleanings of my busy

life will I place before him at the close

of my days when death will knock at

my door.

From Gitanjali (Macmillan and Co., Limited, 1913) by Rabindranath Tagore. This poem is in the public domain.

More by this poet

Gitanjali 35

Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high;

Where knowledge is free;

Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls;

Where words come out from the depth of truth;

Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection;

Rabindranath Tagore

1916

Gitanjali 34

Let only that little be left of me whereby I may name thee my all.

Let only that little be left of my will whereby I may feel thee on every side, and come to thee in everything, and offer to thee my love every moment.

Let only that little be left of me whereby I may never hide thee.

Let only that little of my fetters be left whereby I am bound with thy will, and thy purpose is carried out in my life—and that is the fetter of thy love.

Rabindranath Tagore

1916

Gitanjali 33

When it was day they came into my house and said, “We shall only take the smallest room here.”

They said, “We shall help you in the worship of your God and humbly accept only our own share of his grace”; and then they took their seat in a corner and they sat quiet and meek.

But in the darkness of night I find they break into my sacred shine, strong and turbulent, and snatch with unholy greed the offerings from God’s altar.

Rabindranath Tagore

1916

Poems

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Gitanjali 90

More by this poet

Gitanjali 35

Gitanjali 34

Gitanjali 33

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