In the heart of Bengal's vibrant lands, where Ganges' whispers wove tales,
Lived a bard, Tagore, whose soul sang with the river's sacred scales.
He embraced life's joys and its somber hues, a poet of love's caress,
Painting the canvas of existence, revealing truths, a heart that wouldn't suppress.
Through verses spun like silk, Gitanjali echoed India's dreams and plight,
A beacon of hope, Shanti Niketan, bathed the world in its illuminating light.
His words, akin to a garden's bloom, each verse a fragrant retreat,
Unveiling nature's harmony, in poetic symphony, so tender and replete.
Tagore, not just a poet, but a maestro of wisdom's flight,
Guiding souls with melodies, teaching minds to soar to greater height.
Listen, in the cerulean sky, the lark's mellifluous call,
Echoes Tagore's verses, leading humanity to embrace its destined thrall.
Amidst Bengal's echoes and the Ganges' flowing song,
Tagore's legacy, a narrative eternal, guiding spirits strong.
@ Dr. Padma Shree. R.P.
December 28,2023
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem