Stray Birds

Stray Birds, written by Indian poet Rabindranath Tagore, is one of my favorite poetry. It is about love, about nature, about humanity. It is full of hope, and sometimes lonely.

O Troupe of little vagrants of the world, leave your footprints in my words.

The world puts off its mask of vastness to his lover. It becomes small as one song, as one kiss of the eternal.

It is the tears of the earth that keep her smiles in bloom.

If you shed tears when you miss the sun, you also miss the stars.

Her wishful face haunts my dreams like the rain at night.

Once we dream that we were strangers. We wake up to find that we were dear to each other.

I sit at my window this morning where the world like a passer-by stops for a moment, nods to me and goes.

What you are you do not see, what you see is your shadow

I cannot choose the best. The best Chooses me.

They throw their shadows before them who carry their lantern on their back.

The bird wishes it were a cloud. The cloud wishes it were a bird.

The sun goes to cross the Western sea, leaving its last salutation to the East.

You smiled and talked to me of nothing and I felt that for this I had been waiting long

We come nearest to the great when we are great in humility.

Let life be beautiful like summer flowers and death like autumn leaves.

The echo mocks her origin to prove she is the original.

The road is lonely in its crowd for it is not loved.

Dream is a wife who must talk, Sleep is a husband who silently suffers.

Let me think that there is one among those stars that guides my life through the dark unknown.

By plucking her petals you do not gather the beautiful of the flower.

Silence will carry you voice like the nest that holds the sleeping birds.

The evening sky to me is like a window, and a lighted lamp, and a waiting behind it.

He who is too busy doing good finds no time to be good.