Thou hast made me endless, such is thy pleasure. This frail
vessel thou emptiest again and again, and fillest it ever with fresh life.
This little flute of a reed thou hast carried over hills and dales,
and hast breathed through it melodies eternally new.
At the immortal touch of thy hands my little heart loses its limits in
joy and gives birth to utterance ineffable.
Thy infinite gifts come to me only on these very small hands of mine.
Ages pass, and still thou pourest, and still there is room to fill.
Rabindranath Tagore's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Little Flute by Rabindranath Tagore )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
Did you read them?
- Poem is lost, gajanan mishra
- Can You Hear What I Hear?, Marites C. Cayetano
- Traffic jam..., PARTHA SARATHI PAUL
- The Dull Road, Edgar Albert Guest
- My Paw Said So, Edgar Albert Guest
- When You Know A Fellow, Edgar Albert Guest
- Story Telling, Edgar Albert Guest
- Little Master Mischievous, Edgar Albert Guest
- Failures, Edgar Albert Guest
- Spring In The Trenches, Edgar Albert Guest