Rabindranath Tagore

[Gurudev] (7 May 1861 – 7 August 1941 / Calcutta (Kolkata), Bengal Presidency / British India)

Comments about Rabindranath Tagore

  • Aditya singh (7/15/2018 5:00:00 AM)

    His pome very nice

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  • komal (7/14/2018 10:04:00 PM)

    very nice

  • Prerna (7/13/2018 12:00:00 PM)

    Wow like this poem

  • Aryan (7/13/2018 5:47:00 AM)

    Very nice

  • Biswajit (7/10/2018 7:31:00 PM)

    I really love this

  • Sonali Khastagir (7/8/2018 9:38:00 AM)

    I loved the poem clouds and waves

  • Pue chakraborty (7/5/2018 9:51:00 AM)

    Think him as a sun in the sky
    Think him as a bird that flutters by
    Close your eyes he is with u
    And hold his hands and feel the air
    He will surely be there, He will surely be there.
    - titly

  • Pue chakraborty (7/5/2018 9:46:00 AM)

    The days are the evil,
    The nights are the dame
    Till now my father didn’t came
    Three months over,
    September, October, November
    Now also no phone or letter
    I think he is better
    But I am not well just as the same
    Till now days are the evil and nights are the dame
    All the things are still and same _Titly chakraborty

  • Titly Chakraborty (7/5/2018 9:40:00 AM)

    It is an awesome poem. He is dead but his words are still not fade.

  • Titly (7/5/2018 9:19:00 AM)

    His words are my inspiration. Let the sun shine and his poems in my mind.

Best Poem of Rabindranath Tagore

Where The Mind Is Without Fear

Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high
Where knowledge is free
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments
By narrow domestic walls
Where words come out from the depth of truth
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way
Into the dreary desert sand of dead habit
Where the mind is led forward by thee
Into ever-widening thought and action
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake

Read the full of Where The Mind Is Without Fear

The Gardener Iv: Ah Me

Ah me, why did they build my
house by the road to the market
town?
They moor their laden boats near
my trees.
They come and go and wander at
their will.
I sit and watch them; my time
wears on.

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