Music is silenced, the dark descending slowly
Has stripped unending skies of all companions.
Weariness grips your limbs and within the locked horizons
Dumbly ring the bells of hugely gathering fears.
Still, O bird, O sightless bird,
Not yet, not yet the time to furl your wings.
It's not melodious woodlands but the leaps and falls
Of an ocean's drowsy booming,
Not a grove bedecked with flowers but a tumult flecked with foam.
Where is the shore that stored your buds and leaves?
Where the nest and the branch's hold?
Still, O bird, my sightless bird,
Not yet, not yet the time to furl your wings.
Stretching in front of you the night's immensity
Hides the western hill where sleeps the distant sun;
Still with bated breath the world is counting time and swimming
Across the shoreless dark a crescent moon
Has thinly just appeared upon the dim horizon.
-But O my bird, O sightless bird,
Not yet, not yet the time to furl your wings.
From upper skies the stars with pointing fingers
Intently watch your course and death's impatience
Lashes at you from the deeps in swirling waves;
And sad entreaties line the farthest shore
With hands outstretched and crooning 'Come, O come!'
Still, O bird, O sightless bird,
Not yet, not yet the time to furl your wings.
All that is past: your fears and loves and hopes;
All that is lost: your words and lamentation;
No longer yours a home nor a bed composed of flowers.
For wings are all you have, and the sky's broadening countryard,
And the dawn steeped in darkness, lacking all direction.
Dear bird, my sightless bird,
Not yet, not yet the time to furl your wings!
excellent poet of nature, poet of philosopher poet of feelings of life poet of everything poet of everyone poet of the WORLD- - - - O blind I am in your sight of desire desire of silence mute on the track of life furling wings on the shattered paths of walking muddy or giddy I am into me on the back of odd camel walking and waling.................
" Across the shoreless dark the crescent moon Has thinly just appeared upon the dim horizon" . Great lines profound and lovely.
Still, O bird, O sightless bird, Not yet, not yet the time to furl your wings. - - - Scintillating effect................................I find enormous pleasure when I read any one of your poems! Your poetry is immortal!
All that is past: your fears and loves and hopes; All that is lost: your words and lamentation; No longer yours a home nor a bed composed of flowers. For wings are all you have, and the sky's broadening countryard, And the dawn steeped in darkness, lacking all direction. Dear bird, my sightless bird, Not yet, not yet the time to furl your wings! - - - - - - -Such a great write from the pen of a world poet.
Such a beautiful poem from a Master poet. A masterpiece of lovely imagery.
hi can you give me an indepth analysis in the fourth stanza? i cant really understand it thank you
Still, O bird, my sightless bird, Not yet, not yet the time to furl your wings. the great Tagore and his wonderful thoughts.. tony
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I loved the poem in its original bengali version ever since I can remember. This is a wonderful translation