Have you not heard his silent steps? He comes, comes, ever
Every moment and every age, every day and every night he comes,
comes, ever comes.
Many a song have I sung in many a mood of mind, but all their
notes have always proclaimed, ‘He comes, comes, ever comes.’
In the fragrant days of sunny April through the forest path he
comes, comes, ever comes.
In the rainy gloom of July nights on the thundering chariot of
clouds he comes, comes, ever comes.
In sorrow after sorrow it is his steps that press upon my heart,
and it is the golden touch of his feet that makes my joy to
I know not from what distant time thou art ever coming nearer to
meet me. Thy sun and stars can never keep thee hidden from me
In many a morning and eve thy footsteps have been heard and thy
messenger has come within my heart and called me in secret.
I know not only why today my life is all astir, and a feeling of
tremulous joy is passing through my heart.
It is as if the time were come to wind up my work, and I feel in
the air a faint smell of thy sweet presence.
The night is nearly spent waiting for him in vain. I fear lest
in the morning he suddenly come to my door when I have fallen
asleep wearied out. Oh friends, leave the way open to him–
forbid him not.
If the sounds of his steps does not wake me, do not try to rouse
me, I pray. I wish not to be called from my sleep by the
clamorous choir of birds, by the riot of wind at the festival of
morning light. Let me sleep undisturbed even if my lord comes of
a sudden to my door.
Ah, my sleep, precious sleep, which only waits for his touch to
vanish. Ah, my closed eyes that would open their lids only to
the light of his smile when he stands before me like a dream
emerging from darkness of sleep.
Let him appear before my sight as the first of all lights and all
forms. The first thrill of joy to my awakened soul let it come
from his glance. And let my return to myself be immediate return
From: GITANJALI – ‘Song Offerings’
Tagore Short Poems
Tagore Stray Birds