I paced alone on the road across the field while the sunset was
hiding its last gold like a miser.
The daylight sank deeper and deeper into the darkness, and the
widowed land, whose harvest had been reaped, lay silent.
Suddenly a boy's shrill voice rose into the sky. He traversed
the dark unseen, leaving the track of his song across the hush of
His village home lay there at the end of the waste land,
beyond the sugar-cane field, hidden among the shadows of the banana
and the slender areca palm, the coconut and the dark green jack-
I stopped for a moment in my lonely way under the starlight,
and saw spread before me the darkened earth surrounding with her
arms countless homes furnished with cradles and beds, mother's
hearts and evening lamps, and young lives glad with a gladness that
knows nothing of its value for the world.
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 (The Home 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?
- The Woman, callum marvin
- Interior Light Shining, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- "Baby talk", Mark Heathcote
- GAZA'S TRIUMPH IS EVERYONE'S, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- Wondering Moments, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Shadows Leading Me, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Fairness!, Clarence Prince
- At Her Feet, Naveed Akram
- Enjoying Interior Sensations, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Know everything at least, gajanan mishra