Endless Time by Rabindranath Tagore

Endless Time

Time is endless in thy hands, my lord.
There is none to count thy minutes.

Days and nights pass and ages bloom and fade like flowers.
Thou knowest how to wait.

Thy centuries follow each other perfecting a small wild flower.

We have no time to lose,
and having no time we must scramble for a chance.
We are too poor to be late.

And thus it is that time goes by
while I give it to every querulous man who claims it,
and thine altar is empty of all offerings to the last.

At the end of the day I hasten in fear lest thy gate be shut;
but I find that yet there is time

Rabindranath Tagore
Born: 7 May 1861, Kolkata, India
Nationality: Indian
Died: 7 August 1941, Kolkata, India

Tagore was a polymath, poet, musician, and artist. He is credited with reshaping Bengali literature and Indian art with Contextual Modernism in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. In 1913 he was the first non-European to win the Nobel Prize in Literature. A Brahmo Hindu with ancestry in Burdwan and Jessore, he began writing poet at eight years old. At sixteen, Tagore released his first substantial poems under the penname of Bhānusiṃha. He had graduated to short stories and dramas using his real name by 1877. Tagore was a humanist, universalist, internationalist, and an anti-nationalist, denouncing the British raj and advocating Indian independence from Britain

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