Dawn by Rupert Brooke
Opposite me two Germans snore and sweat. Through sullen swirling gloom we jolt and roar. We have been here for ever: even yet A dim watch tells two hours, two aeons, more. The windows are tight-shut and slimy-wet With a night’s foetor. There are two hours more; Two hours to dawn and Milan; two hours […]
Clouds by Rupert Brooke
Down the blue night the unending columns press In noiseless tumult, break and wave and flow, Now tread the far South, or lift rounds of snow Up to the white moon’s hidden loveliness. Some pause in their grave wandering comradeless, And turn with profound gesture vague and slow, As who would pray good for the […]
Choriambics — II by Rupert Brooke
Here the flame that was ash, shrine that was void, lost in the haunted wood, I have tended and loved, year upon year, I in the solitude Waiting, quiet and glad-eyed in the dark, knowing that once a gleam Glowed and went through the wood. Still I abode strong in a golden dream, Unrecaptured. For […]
Choriambics — I by Rupert Brooke
Ah! not now, when desire burns, and the wind calls, and the suns of spring Light-foot dance in the woods, whisper of life, woo me to wayfaring; Ah! not now should you come, now when the road beckons, and good friends call, Where are songs to be sung, fights to be fought, yea! and the […]
Charm, The by Rupert Brooke
In darkness the loud sea makes moan; And earth is shaken, and all evils creep About her ways. Oh, now to know you sleep! Out of the whirling blinding moil, alone, Out of the slow grim fight, One thought to wing — to you, asleep, In some cool room that’s open to the night Lying […]
Busy Heart, The by Rupert Brooke
Now that we’ve done our best and worst, and parted, I would fill my mind with thoughts that will not rend. (O heart, I do not dare go empty-hearted) I’ll think of Love in books, Love without end; Women with child, content; and old men sleeping; And wet strong ploughlands, scarred for certain grain; And […]
Blue Evening by Rupert Brooke
My restless blood now lies a-quiver, Knowing that always, exquisitely, This April twilight on the river Stirs anguish in the heart of me. For the fast world in that rare glimmer Puts on the witchery of a dream, The straight grey buildings, richly dimmer, The fiery windows, and the stream With willows leaning quietly over, […]
Beauty and Beauty by Rupert Brooke
When Beauty and Beauty meet All naked, fair to fair, The earth is crying-sweet, And scattering-bright the air, Eddying, dizzying, closing round, With soft and drunken laughter; Veiling all that may befall After — after — Where Beauty and Beauty met, Earth’s still a-tremble there, And winds are scented yet, And memory-soft the air, Bosoming, […]
Ante Aram by Rupert Brooke
Before thy shrine I kneel, an unknown worshipper, Chanting strange hymns to thee and sorrowful litanies, Incense of dirges, prayers that are as holy myrrh. Ah, goddess, on thy throne of tears and faint low sighs, Weary at last to theeward come the feet that err, And empty hearts grown tired of the world’s vanities. […]
And love has changed to kindliness by Rupert Brooke
When love has changed to kindliness — Oh, love, our hungry lips, that press So tight that Time’s an old god’s dream Nodding in heaven, and whisper stuff Seven million years were not enough To think on after, make it seem Less than the breath of children playing, A blasphemy scarce worth the saying, A […]
A Memory by Rupert Brooke
(From a sonnet-sequence) Somewhile before the dawn I rose, and stept Softly along the dim way to your room, And found you sleeping in the quiet gloom, And holiness about you as you slept. I knelt there; till your waking fingers crept About my head, and held it. I had rest Unhoped this side of […]
A Letter to a Live Poet by Rupert Brooke
Sir, since the last Elizabethan died, Or, rather, that more Paradisal muse, Blind with much light, passed to the light more glorious Or deeper blindness, no man’s hand, as thine, Has, on the world’s most noblest chord of song, Struck certain magic strains. Ears satiate With the clamorous, timorous whisperings of to-day, Thrilled to perceive […]
A Channel Passage by Rupert Brooke
The damned ship lurched and slithered. Quiet and quick My cold gorge rose; the long sea rolled; I knew I must think hard of something, or be sick; And could think hard of only one thing — YOU! You, you alone could hold my fancy ever! And with you memories come, sharp pain, and dole. […]
1914 V: The Soldier by Rupert Brooke
If I should die, think only this of me: That there’s some corner of a foreign field That is for ever England. There shall be In that rich earth a richer dust concealed; A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware, Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam, A body of England’s, […]
1914 IV: The Dead by Rupert Brooke
These hearts were woven of human joys and cares, Washed marvellously with sorrow, swift to mirth. The years had given them kindness. Dawn was theirs, And sunset, and the colours of the earth. These had seen movement, and heard music; known Slumber and waking; loved; gone proudly friended; Felt the quick stir of wonder; sat […]
1914 III: The Dead by Rupert Brooke
Blow out, you bugles, over the rich Dead! There’s none of these so lonely and poor of old, But, dying, has made us rarer gifts than gold. These laid the world away; poured out the red Sweet wine of youth; gave up the years to be Of work and joy, and that unhoped serene, That […]
1914 II: Safety by Rupert Brooke
Dear! of all happy in the hour, most blest He who has found our hid security, Assured in the dark tides of the world that rest, And heard our word, ‘Who is so safe as we?’ We have found safety with all things undying, The winds, and morning, tears of men and mirth, The deep […]
1914 I: Peace by Rupert Brooke
Now, God be thanked Who has watched us with His hour, And caught our youth, and wakened us from sleeping, With hand made sure, clear eye, and sharpened power, To turn, as swimmers into cleanness leaping, Glad from a world grown old and cold and weary, Leave the sick hearts that honour could not move, […]
When and Why by Rabindranath Tagore
is such a play of colours on clouds, on water, and why flowers are painted in tints-when I give coloured toys to you, my child. When I sing to make you dance, I truly know why there is music in leaves, and why waves send their chorus of voices to the heart of the listening […]
The Unheeded Pageant by Rabindranath Tagore
your sweet limbs with that little red tunic? You have come out in the morning to play in the courtyard, tottering and tumbling as you run. But who was it coloured that little frock, my child? What is it makes you laugh, my little life-bud? Mother smiles at you standing on the threshold. She claps […]
The Source by Rabindranath Tagore
it comes? Yes, there is a rumour that it has its dwelling where, in the fairy village among shadows of the forest dimly lit with glow-worms, there hang two shy buds of enchantment. From there it comes to kiss baby’s eyes. The smile that flickers on baby’s lips when he sleeps-does anybody know where it […]
The Recall by Rabindranath Tagore
The night is dark now, and I call for her, “Come back, my darling; the world is asleep; and no one would know, if you came for a moment while stars are gazing at stars.” She went away when the trees were in bud and the spring was young. Now the flowers are in high […]
The Hero by Rabindranath Tagore
strange and dangerous country. You are riding in a palanquin and I am trotting by you on a red horse. It is evening and the sun goes down. The waste of Joradighi lies wan and grey before us. The land is desolate and barren. You are frightened and thinking-“I know not where we have come […]
The Gardener XLVIII: Free Me by Rabindranath Tagore
sweetness, my love! Nor more of this wine of kisses. This mist of heavy incense stifles my heart. Open the doors, make room for the morning light. I am lost in you, wrapped in the folds of your caresses. Free me from your spells, and give me back the manhood to offer you my freed […]
The Gardener XLVI: You Left Me by Rabindranath Tagore
I thought I should mourn for you and set your solitary image in my heart wrought in a golden song. But ah, my evil fortune, time is short. Youth wanes year after year; the spring days are fugitive; the frail flowers die for nothing, and the wise man warns me that life is but a […]
The Gardener LXXXIII: She Dwelt on the Hillside by Rabindranath Tagore
of a maize-field, near the spring that flows in laughing rills through the solemn shadows of ancient trees. The women came there to fill their jars, and travellers would sit there to rest and talk. She worked and dreamed daily to the tune of the bubbling stream. One evening the stranger came down from the […]
The Gardener LXXXI: Why Do You Whisper So Faintly by Rabindranath Tagore
my ears, O Death, my Death? When the flowers droop in the evening and cattle come back to their stalls, you stealthily come to my side and speak words that I do not understand. Is this how you must woo and win me with the opiate of drowsy murmur and cold kisses, O Death, my […]
The Gardener LXVIII: None Lives For Ever, Brother by Rabindranath Tagore
nothing lasts for long. Keep that in mind and rejoice. Our life is not the one old burden, our path is not the one long journey. One sole poet has not to sing one aged song. The flower fades and dies; but he who wears the flower has not to mourn for it for ever. […]
The End by Rabindranath Tagore
When in the paling darkness of the lonely dawn you stretch out your arms for your baby in the bed, I shall say, “Baby is not here!”-mother, I am going. I shall become a delicate draught of air and caress you and I shall be ripples in the water when you bathe, and kiss you […]
My Song by Rabindranath Tagore
the fond arms of love. This song of mine will touch your forehead like a kiss of blessing. When you are alone it will sit by your side and whisper in your ear, when you are in the crowd it will fence you about with aloofness. My song will be like a pair of wings […]
Lover’s Gifts XLVIII: I Travelled the Old Road by Rabindranath Tagore
my cattle to the meadows, I ferried my boat across the stream and all the ways were well known to me. One morning my basket was heavy with wares. Men were busy in the fields, the pastures crowded with cattle; the breast of earth heaved with the mirth of ripening rice. Suddenly there was a […]
Lover’s Gifts XLVII: The Road Is by Rabindranath Tagore
day, she sings to my dreams all night. My meeting with her had no beginning, it begins endlessly at each daybreak, renewing its summer in fresh flowers and songs, and her every new kiss is the first kiss to me. The road and I are lovers. I change my dress for her night after night, […]
Lover’s Gifts XLIV: Where Is Heaven by Rabindranath Tagore
beyond the limits of birth and death, unswayed by the rhythm of day and night; it is not of the earth. But your poet knows that its eternal hunger is for time and space, and it strives evermore to be born in the fruitful dust. Heaven is fulfilled in your sweet body, my child, in […]
Lover’s Gifts XIX: It Is Written in the Book by Rabindranath Tagore
noisy world, to go to the forest seclusion. But the poet proclaims that the forest hermitage is only for the young. For it is the birthplace of flowers and the haunt of birds and bees; and hidden hooks are waiting there for the thrill of lovers’ whispers. There the moon-light, that is all one kiss […]
Lover’s Gifts LXX: Take Back Your Coins by Rabindranath Tagore
sent to the forest shrine to decoy the young ascetic who had never seen a women. I failed in your bidding. Dimly day was breaking when the hermit boy came to bathe in the stream, his tawny locks crowded on his shoulders, like a cluster of morning clouds, and his limbs shining like a streak […]
Light by Rabindranath Tagore
the eye-kissing light, heart-sweetening light! Ah, the light dances, my darling, at the center of my life; the light strikes, my darling, the chords of my love; the sky opens, the wind runs wild, laughter passes over the earth. The butterflies spread their sails on the sea of light. Lilies and jasmines surge up on […]
Colored Toys by Rabindranath Tagore
I understand why there is such a play of colors on clouds, on water, and why flowers are painted in tints —when I give colored toys to you, my child. When I sing to make you dance I truly now why there is music in leaves, and why waves send their chorus of voices to […]
We Are To Play The Game Of Death by Rabindranath Tagore
The night is black, the clouds in the sky are capricious, and the waves are raving at sea. We have left our bed of dreams, flung open the door and come out, my bride and I. We sit upon a swing, and the storm winds give us a wild push from behind. My bride starts […]
We Are To Play The Game Of Death by Rabindranath Tagore
The night is black, the clouds in the sky are capricious, and the waves are raving at sea. We have left our bed of dreams, flung open the door and come out, my bride and I. We sit upon a swing, and the storm winds give us a wild push from behind. My bride starts […]
The Hero — English Translation by Rabindranath Tagore
I was travelling with my mother In a foreign land And going to a far away place. Mother, you were in a palanquin With its doors slightly ajar And I was cantering along On a chestnut horse Raising clouds of dust. When in the west the sun set And it was evening It seemed we […]