Endless Time
Poem by Rabindranath Tagore
Time is endless in thy hands, my lord.
There is none to count thy minutes.
Days and nights pass and ages bloom and fade like flowers.
Thou knowest how to wait.
Thy centuries follow each other perfecting a small wild flower.
We have no time to lose,
and having no time we must scramble for a chance.
We are too poor to be late.
And thus it is that time goes by
while I give it to every querulous man who claims it,
and thine altar is empty of all offerings to the last.
At the end of the day I hasten in fear lest thy gate be shut;
but I find that yet there is time.
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Time is endless in thy hands, my lord.
Report ReplyThere is none to count thy minutes.
......./// greatly written the greatest master poet
yeah no end
no end
has no end this time, this nature
in thy hand all are alive beautifully
just need pure intimacy
with you and me together
Time, prayer, God and fear and great commitments. tony
Report ReplyTime is endless in thy hands, my lord.
Report ReplyThere is none to count thy minutes.
Days and nights pass and ages bloom and fade like flowers.
Thou knowest how to wait.
Thy centuries follow each other perfecting a small wild flower.- - - -I am in awe and wonder at the poet and his poem.
very nice and meaningful poem
Report ReplyWe have no time to loose. We are too poor to be late
Report ReplyThis poem is mind blowing
Report ReplyThank you
I like it
Report ReplyLove it
Report ReplyMatureed poem means are good and Godlike
Report ReplyVery nice and best poem I liked this ..
Report Replywow superb and great introspection of time by the ever greatest POET
Report ReplyBeautiful poem elegantly brought forth with spiritual insight.
Report Replythis amazin poem shows the fear of seath as it seeks us out while the clock silently but inexorably, ticks and
Report Replytocks and destroys us wuietly and without mercy.
Time is endless in thy hands, my lord.
Report ReplyThere is none to count thy minutes. Nice work
A great poem from the master's pen! ....Days and nights pass and ages bloom and fade like flowers..... It's my great pleasure to read it
Report ReplyIt is not a imaginary poem. It is a real poem
Report ReplyReally this poem is so difficult and this is similarly our life..... The poem is so imaginary.
Report ReplyIt is true that we have no time.Hence it is called time is money.
Report ReplyProfound poem and a master stroke by a brilliant poet. We seldom thing to use the time judiciously.
Report ReplyAwesome comment.......
Excellent poem. The time is more valuable. But we can't use proper time. I love this poet. Heartiest regards this poet.
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