This was first published in 1936 in keeping with Tagore's wish for an anthology. But the title of the original was really a misnomer as the works compiled were selected not collected. The poems and plays collected are translations from the Bengali.
Awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1913 "because of his profoundly sensitive, fresh and beautiful verse, by which, with consummate skill, he has made his poetic thought, expressed in his own English words, a part of the literature of the West."
Tagore modernised Bengali art by spurning rigid classical forms and resisting linguistic strictures. His novels, stories, songs, dance-dramas, and essays spoke to topics political and personal. Gitanjali (Song Offerings), Gora (Fair-Faced), and Ghare-Baire (The Home and the World) are his best-known works, and his verse, short stories, and novels were acclaimed—or panned—for their lyricism, colloquialism, naturalism, and unnatural contemplation. His compositions were chosen by two nations as national anthems: India's Jana Gana Mana and Bangladesh's Amar Shonar Bangla.
I ask for a moment's indulgence to sit by thy side. The works that I have in hand I will finish afterwards. Away from the sight of thy face, my heart knows no rest nor respite, and my work becomes an endless toil in shoreless sea of toil. To-day the summer has come at my window with its sighs and murmurs; and the bees are plying their minstrelsy at the court of the flowering grove. Now it is time to sit quiet, face to face with thee, and to sing dedication of life in this silent and overflowing leisure.
There are few satisfactions in the book hunting world like picking up a book without being fully aware of its content or its author, and it surprisingly becoming one of your most cherished. This is one of the marvels provided for example by charity shops, in which one may come out with something in the bag simply because either the title or the bookcover seemed appealing or intriguing. This is what happened with "Collected Poems and Plays of Rabindranath Tagore" and this revealed an author of extraordinary humanity and wisdom, so typical of the Indian subcontinent, the birthplace of notable human beings such as Siddharta Gautama, Mahavira, Patanjali, Kabir, Vivekananda, Mirabai, Rama Tirtha, Mirza Ghalib, Amir Khusrow or Sri Aurobindo, a group in which Tagore definitely belongs.
Rabindranath Tagore's poetry is something quite special. It's pure beyond understanding, sensible beyond belief, ecstatic, transcendental, minimalistic oftentimes, yet disclosing entire worlds and aeons, the latter features drawing it close to japanese haikus and ch'an poetry. Highlights and lyrics in which these characteristics are most cleary witnessed would be in the much renowned "Gitanjali", but also in the breathtaking, utterly soul inspiring, and not inferior in any aspect "Stray Birds". While these two collections soar high with their pristine and mystical take on existence, other groups of poems such as "Crossing", "The Gardener", "Fruit Gathering" and "Lover's Gift" showcase Tagore's passionate poetical genius. All of them indeed, given their reduction to the most immediate and universal human identification, expose the physical, emotional and spiritual bonds we share not just with the human realm, but also with the plant, animal and geological (in this scientifically proficient age one may even call it atomical or quantum) kingdom, describing the world as an all-pervading, impermanent in its perception, yet sublime, metaphysical structure of everlasting and almost undescribable beauty in its essence.
Tagore's plays present themselves as more developed poems in narrative terms for obvious reasons, but in their core they remain just as impacting with their common themes of illuminating wisdom disguised as youthful or child ingenuity, justice, dignity, sacrifice, religious dogma, vengeance and love, never failing to disclose the reasonings and origins behind each, with its praise and criticism unveiled only through their results.
Tagore was the kind of man that makes us proud as a human species, a poet and philosopher who understood himself, his kind and their world like few people today can honestly claim. His poetry transposes the boundaries of nationality or language, his weaved images are lofty and truthful, he is profound without being verbose, touching without being corny, all traits of a grand, compassionate and enlightened mind. Those reasons alone are enough to make this book an exhilarating and memorable read for anyone fond of poetry with humanist and holistic/pantheistic tones, but also enough to raise Tagore to the Olympus of authors in human history, a thinker whose concern with the fundamental nature of existence allowed himself to expose his soul in its most bare and authentic with melodious grace.
I picked this up because I wanted to expand my horizons with literature from other cultures and because I'd read that Tagore was a polymath. I've come to wonder how someone becomes a polymath. Was he known as such in his own culture? Or was he a nuisance that people couldn't wait to get rid of hence put him on a boat to the colonial lords and see what they make of him. Once there, they, wanting to demonstrate their open mindedness and willingness to investigate the new (to them) and unique (to them) and because there's one born every minute, collectively say, "Whoa and O' My gosh and golly, I can't understand a thing this guy's doing so it's gotta be great!" (anybody remember the surge of interest in Native American traditions, Celtic traditions, any traditions that weren't Western traditions, back in the 1990s? How about Buddhism and Hinduism back in the 1960s? How about ...). I did expand my horizons. I'm not sure he qualifies as a polymath. There's some interesting aspects of the Arjuna myth in here. Tagore is definitely writing from a non-Western metaphysic. Personally, I'd suggest someone wanting a taste of such things read The Upanishads (good stuff( or at least The Mahabharata (amazing stuff).
Collected Poems and Plays of Rabindranath Tagore was first published in 1936 in keeping with Tagore's wish for an anthology. The poems and plays included are translations from the Bengali. But Tagore himself did not translate all of them. Eg. The Post Office was translated by Debabrata Mukhopadhyay and The Cycle of Spring by C.F.Andrews and Nishikanta Sen. The collection also includes ten later poems which Tagore wrote after 1921 like The Son Of Man and Boro-Budur.
I have no knowledge of Bengali to judge the quality of these poems in their original settings. I found the poems at times lyrically sensual, as in the songs I myself have sung to music - western classical art songs -- or otherwise the poems seem short sighted and short themed. I waffled between the two ideas. Generally I got the impression that Tagore lived a sheltered, perhaps idealistic life. I missed the flaunting of a wider vocabulary, sparring communications, and descriptions that evoked more than a one second of time in fleeting atmosphere. I wanted to go someplace and I didn't get far.
One of the titans of literature. "The Post Office", "Sanyasi", "Chitra" and the most notable "Gitanjali". It just gets better and better as you go deeper and deeper into his work. I scored a second hand hard bound copy at the Strand bookstore in NYC and how grateful I am.
To each and every person, Tagore's works are a must to read. To look at the life in a different way, to feel the warmth and beauty of happiness and sorrow at the same time. Words can't explain the feelings one goes through while reading Guruji's works.