PICT0024 by Joel Duggan
With less than 24 hours before the beginning of the Convention on Climate Change in Copenhagen, listen to the words of Rabindranath Tagore reaching forward beyond a century with utter faith and "gladsome greetings" that we of course would know the buzzing of the bees and the rustling of the leaves.
But a hundred years from today?
We must become worker bees now to save this heaven on Earth for those who will call it their home in a hundred years and beyond.
(Recitation by Samuel George)
A Hundred Years from Today
-by Rabindranath Tagore
A hundred years from today
who are you, sitting, reading a poem of mine,
under curiosity’s sway -
a hundred years from today?
Not the least portion
of this young spring’s morning bliss,
neither blossom nor birdsong,
nor any of its scarlet splashes
can I drench in passion
and despatch to your hands
a hundred years hence!
Yet do this, please: unlatch your south-faced door,
just sit at your window for once;
basking in fantasy, eyes on the far horizon,
figure out if you can:
how one day a hundred years back
roving delights in a free fall from a heavenly region
had touched all that there was -
the infant Phalgun day, utterly free,
was frenzied, all agog,
while borne on brisk wings, the south wind
pollen-scent-brushed
had suddenly arrived and in a flash dyed the earth
with all youth’s hues
a hundred years before your day.
There lived then a poet, ebullient of spirit,
his heart steeped in song,
who wanted to open his words like so many flowers
with so much passion
one day a hundred years back.
A hundred years from today
who is the new poet
whose songs flow through your homes?
To him I convey
this springtime’s gladsome greetings.
May my vernal song find its echo for a moment
in your spring day
in the throbbing of your hearts, in the buzzing of your bees,
in the rustling of your leaves
a hundred years from today.
This poem written in 1896 by Rabindranath Tagore(1861-1941) Indian poet, playwright and essayist;won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1913.
This is Number Seven in a randomly-posted, continuing series of quotes by Tagore. Everything he wrote is golden.
Number One
Number Two
Number Three
Number Four
Number Five
