Tell me, O Swan, your ancient tale
Tell me, O Swan, your ancient tale.
From what land do you come,
O Swan? to what shore will you fly?
Where would you take your rest,
O Swan, and what do you seek?
Even this morning, O Swan, awake, arise, follow me!
There is a land where no doubt nor sorrow have rule:
where the terror of Death is no more.
There the woods of spring are a-bloom,
and the fragrant scent 'He is I' is borne on the wind:
There the bee of the heart is deeply immersed,
and desires no other joy.
Kabir's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Translated by Rabindranath Tagore
New York, The Macmillan Company 1915
Comments about this poem (Tell me, O Swan, your ancient tale by Kabir )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
(22 August 1893 - 7 June 1967)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Invictus, William Ernest Henley
- Christmas Trees, Robert Frost
- The Saddest Poem, Pablo Neruda
- Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
- A Child's Christmas in Wales, Dylan Thomas
- Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
- Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou