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A review by awilderm23
The Home and the World by Rabindranath Tagore
3.0
2.75
man is so much bigger than what he loses in this life
love is a vagabond who can make his flowers bloom in the wayside dust better than in the crystal jars kept in the drawing room
and the angel of death hovered for a moment in the cool shadows of the office and flew out again through the window leaving a trail of feathers fluttering in his wake but the boy did not see them
everything is rippling and waving with the flood of august
i am your country i am your sandip i am more to you than anything else of yours. bande mataram an with folded hands i had responded you are my religion you are my heaven whatever else is mine will be swept away before my love for you bande mataram
If my heart is breaking—let it break! That will not make the world bankrupt—nor even me; for man is so much greater than the things he loses in this life. The very ocean of tears has its other shore, else none would have ever wept.
she should never have looked at me if she meant i should not love her
there are plenty, men you call such
i suppose she may discover
all her soul to if she pleases
and yet leave much as she found them
but i’m not so and she knew it
when she fixed me glancing round them - browning
man is so much bigger than what he loses in this life
love is a vagabond who can make his flowers bloom in the wayside dust better than in the crystal jars kept in the drawing room
and the angel of death hovered for a moment in the cool shadows of the office and flew out again through the window leaving a trail of feathers fluttering in his wake but the boy did not see them
everything is rippling and waving with the flood of august
i am your country i am your sandip i am more to you than anything else of yours. bande mataram an with folded hands i had responded you are my religion you are my heaven whatever else is mine will be swept away before my love for you bande mataram
If my heart is breaking—let it break! That will not make the world bankrupt—nor even me; for man is so much greater than the things he loses in this life. The very ocean of tears has its other shore, else none would have ever wept.
she should never have looked at me if she meant i should not love her
there are plenty, men you call such
i suppose she may discover
all her soul to if she pleases
and yet leave much as she found them
but i’m not so and she knew it
when she fixed me glancing round them - browning