Gitanjali 98
R
Rabindranath Tagore
0
Altın Yaprak
I will deck thee with trophies, garlands
of my defeat. It is never in my power
to escape unconquered.
I surely know my pride will go to the
wall, my life will burst its bonds in ex-
ceeding pain, and my empty heart will
sob out in music like a hollow reed, and
the stone will melt in tears.
I surely know the hundred petals of
a lotus will not remain closed for ever
and the secret recess of its honey will
be bared.
From the blue sky an eye shall gaze
upon me and summon me in silence.
Nothing will be left for me, nothing
whatever, and utter death shall I receive
at thy feet.
Bu metin şairin özgün dilinde (bn) değil, bir çeviridir.
Kamu malı: şairin ölümünün üzerinden 70 yıldan fazla geçti.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş