Tagore Again. Always

XXXIII

WHEN I thought I would mould you, an image from my life for men to worship, I brought my dust and desires and all my coloured delusions and dreams.

When I asked you to mould with my life an image from your heart for you to love, you brought your fire and force, and truth, loveliness and peace.

LIII

I HAVE kissed this world with my eyes and my limbs; I have wrapt it within my heart in numberless folds; I have flooded its days and nights with thoughts till the world and my life have grown one,--and I love my life because I love the light of the sky so enwoven with me.

If to leave this world be as real as to love it--then there must be a meaning in the meeting and the parting of life.

If that love were deceived in death, then the canker of this deceit would eat into all things, and the stars would shrivel and grow black.

LIX

WHEN the weariness of the road is upon me, and the thirst of the sultry day; when the ghostly hours of the dusk throw their shadows across my life, then I cry not for your voice only, my friend, but for your touch.

There is an anguish in my heart for the burden of its riches not given to you.

Put out your hand through the night, let me hold it and fill it and keep it; let me feel its touch along the lengthening stretch of my loneliness.

LX

THE odour cries in the bud, "Ah me, the day departs, the happy day of spring, and I am a prisoner in petals!"

Do not lose heart, timid thing! Your bonds will burst, the bud will open into flower, and when you die in the fulness of life, even then the spring will live on.

The odour pants and flutters within the bud, crying, "Ah me, the hours pass by, yet I do not know where I go, or what it is I seek!"

Do not lose heart, timid thing! The spring breeze has overheard your desire, the day will not end before you have fulfilled your being.

Dark is the future to her, and the odour cries in despair, "Ah me, through whose fault is my life so unmeaning?

"Who can tell me, why I am at all?" Do not lose heart, timid thing! The perfect dawn is near when you will mingle your life with all life and know at last your purpose.

LXII

"WHAT is there but the sky, O Sun, that can hold thine image?"

"I dream of thee, but to serve thee I can never hope," the dewdrop wept and said, "I am too small to take thee unto me, great lord, and my life is all tears."

"I illumine the limitless sky, yet I can yield myself up to a tiny drop of dew," thus the Sun said; "I shall become but a sparkle of light and fill you, and your little life will be a laughing orb."

LXIII

NOT for me is the love that knows no restraint, but like the foaming wine that having burst its vessel in a moment would run to waste.

Send me the love which is cool and pure like your rain that blesses the thirsty earth and fills the homely earthen jars.

Send me the love that would soak down into the centre of being, and from there would spread like the unseen sap through the branching tree of life, giving birth to fruits and flowers.

Send me the love that keeps the heart still with the fulness of peace.

LXIX

You were in the centre of my heart, therefore when my heart wandered she never found you; you hid yourself from my loves and hopes till the last, for you were always in them.

You were the inmost joy in the play of my youth, and when I was too busy with the play the joy was passed by.

You sang to me in the ecstasies of my life and I forgot to sing to you.

LXXII

THE joy ran from all the world to build my body.

The lights of the skies kissed and kissed her till she woke.

Flowers of hurrying summers sighed in her breath and voices of winds and water sang in her movements.

The passion of the tide of colours in clouds and in forests flowed into her life, and the music of all things caressed her limbs into shape.

She is my bride,--she has lighted her lamp in my house.

LXXIX

LET me not pray to be sheltered from dangers but to be fearless in facing them.

Let me not beg for the stilling of my pain but for the heart to conquer it.

Let me not look for allies in life's battlefield but to my own strength.

Let me not crave in anxious fear to be saved but hope for the patience to win my freedom.

Grant me that I may not be a coward, feeling your mercy in my success alone; but let me find the grasp of your hand in my failure.

This Is The Beginning Of The End

You didn't know of what you've done.
You wouldn't done it if you knew.
But all the trust I had in you
To let you rule my life, is gone.

Sometime the bad things lead to good.
You have your life and I have mine.
It's nothing but a waste of time
To turn back to the way things stood.

We have our memories but still,
Now that you are just a part of it,
My life new joy and love will meet.
High hopes will all our dreams fulfill.

How To Have Fun Without Trying

Dress up as colorful as you can.
Take a musical instrument and play it.
Sing all the songs you know.
Smile at yourself.
Eat healthy and tasty food.
Dance alone or with anyone willing.
Talk with friendly people.
Play new games.
Draw cute animals.
Hug your pets.
Write a song or a poem.
Use Python as a programming language.
Speak in a foreign language.

Aloha!

I love my ukulele. I do. I really do. I get tones of fun with minimum effort. It's the best thing I have ever purchased. And it was cheap.

The idea came to me from the book "How to be free" by Tom Hodgkinson.
This book mentions, among other memorable things, a Chekhov story ("Who Was To Blame?") about a man who tried to learn his cat to catch mice. It reminded me of my years in school.

Mahalo Tom!

Free At Last!

I'm learning how to play the guitar. My goal is to sing to the guitar any song I want.
When I was young my parents sent me together with my older brother to a children guitar group. My brother totally loved it and I totally hate it. I was too young for that. The guitar was too big, the strings too strong, I didn't know how to read or write. I only knew how to sing along with other children. Maybe it wasn't a complete waste of time. Maybe I have learned some things. But I didn't enjoy it and it blocked me for thirty years.
I have a good musical ear. I can sing decently. I have rhythm. And from now on, I can also play the guitar. There is a long way in front of me. But I have made the first step.

Easter Haiku

I painted the egg
To keep an old tradition
From Eastern Europe.

Hope

"I WILL meet one day the Life within me, the joy that hides in my life, though the days perplex my path with their idle dust.

I have known it in glimpses, and its fitful breath has come upon me, making my thoughts fragrant for a while.

I will meet one day the Joy without me that dwells behind the screen of light--and will stand in the overflowing solitude where all things are seen as by their creator."
from Tagore's Fruit-Gathering