Rabindranath Tagore - Thou hast made me endless (Gitanjali)
Ivan M. Granger January 30th, 2009
(1) Thou hast made me endless (from The Gitanjali)
by Rabindranath Tagore
English version by Rabindranath Tagore
Thou hast made me endless, such is thy pleasure. This frail vessel thou emptiest again and again, and fillest it ever with fresh life.
This little flute of a reed thou hast carried over hills and dales, and hast breathed through it melodies eternally new.
At the immortal touch of thy hands my little heart loses its limits in joy and gives birth to utterance ineffable.
Thy infinite gifts come to me only on these very small hands of mine. Ages pass, and still thou pourest, and still there is room to fill.
— from Gitanjali, by Rabindranath Tagore
/ Photo by particlem /
I’ve jotted down a few comments about this opening verse from Tagore’s Gitanjali, but you know what? Maybe you should just ignore what I have to say and reread the poem.
This frail vessel thou emptiest again and again, and fillest it ever with fresh life…
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The great Rabindranath Tagore evokes for us something of the mystic’s experience.
There is the awareness of being endless, without any boundaries. You recognize yourself as being truly vast, beyond all limits of skin and thought.
You often feel yourself to be a “vessel,” a cup or a bowl that has been repeatedly emptied of everything and scrubbed clean, only to be filled with an entirely new sense of life and identity.
The metaphor of a reed or flute is a common one in sacred poetry. In Yogic terminology, he is speaking of the shushumna, the energetic channel associated with the spine, and the energy centers called chakras are the “holes” of the flute that allow its music to be tuned and modified. It is God’s warm breath that blows through us, animating us with the gift of consciousness. And something in us hums, producing an awareness of divine music.
The heart, along with the general sense of self, “loses its limits” and spreads itself open in an indescribable joy and love.
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PS - Did it seem like a bumpy week to you too? I hope you survived without too many bruises…
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Rabindranath Tagore
India (1861 - 1941) Timeline |
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Dear Ivan,
I am so very glad that you sent me such a wonderful poem by Sh. Rabindranath Tagore. He was indeed a realized soul, whose Sushmana was enlightened and all the chakras awakened. Because his Kundalini energy was awakened.
and what a wonderful translation you have done for this poem. When i read the lines where you have compared the reeds with the holes of the flute, i felt ecstatic. I felt so overjoyed that I could feel the cool breeze of the Holy Ghost on my hands.
Thanks Ivan!
May God bless you!
Nirmal (Divine) Love,
Rajni
The image of the flute found in Tagore’s poem is also important in Sufi poetry. Rumi talks about the longing in the song of the flute, having been torn from the reed bed.
This is a reference to the devotee feeling separation from the Divine Being, from whom he came. The longing is for Union with the Divine.
THE REED FLUTE
Listen to the story told by the reed,
of being separate.
“Since I was cut from the reedbed,
I have made this crying sound.
Anyone separated from someone he loves
understands what I say.
ANyone pulled from a source
longs to go back.
At any gathering I am there, mingling
in the laughing and the grieving,
a friend to each, but few
will hear the secrets hidden
within the notes. No ears for that.
Body flowing out of spirit,
spirit up from body. We can’t conceal
that mixing, but it’s not given us
to see the soul” The reed flute
is fire, not wind. Be nothing.
Hear the love-fire tangled
in the reed notes, as bewilderment
melts into wine. The reed is a friend
to all who want the fabric
torn and drawn away. The reed is
hurt and salve combining.
Intimacy and longing for
intimacy in one song.
A disasterous surrender,
and a fine love, together.
The one who secretly hears this
is senseless.
A tongue has one customer,
the ear.
The power of a cane flute comes
from its making sugar in the reedbed.
Whatever sound it has
is for everyone.
Days full of wanting, let them go by
without worrying that they do.
Stay where you are, inside
such a pure, hollow note.
RUMI fm
THE HAND OF POETRY
Omega Publications
Thank you Ivan,
I so much enjoyed todays poem. it is so pure and beautiful and oh yes synchronicity…just what I needed to hear and take in today.
I appreciate your site very much. It is very versatile and that is good so you offer something for many peoples taste.
I love the mystic poets.
In gratitude,
Bless your heart,
Lucienne
The flute or reed in mystic language is something far profound. It is not a metaphor or anything like this, it already exist this flute or reed within everybody, and it is godmade.
If you want to really know and understand it, look for “Radha Soami”, and books by Radha soami Society. If you really want to know…