This is a poem one can read over and over, and over and over and... over again. Thank you.

Dear Deepak,

Thank you for this wonderful poem.

I think i have found a website that contains this conversation between Einstein and Tagore:

http://www.mukto-mona.com/Articles/einstein_tagore.htm

Einstein and Tagore plumb the truth :)

Humanity is that wild flower in the process of perfecting. Hidden in the heart is the Source of all surface experience. When we awaken, we too will never stop creating Beauty and Peace.

Tagore and Einstein met through a common friend, Dr. Mendel. Tagore visited Einstein at his residence at Kaputh in the suburbs of Berlin on July 14, 1930, and Einstein returned the call and visited Tagore at the Mendel home. Both conversations were recorded and the above photograph was taken. The July 14 conversation is reproduced here, and was originally published in The Religion of Man (George, Allen & Unwin, Ltd., London), Appendix II, pp. 222-225.

TAGORE: I was discussing with Dr. Mendel today the new mathematical discoveries which tell us that in the realm of infinitesimal atoms chance has its play; the drama of existence is not absolutely predestined in character.

EINSTEIN: The facts that make science tend toward this view do not say good-bye to causality.

TAGORE: Maybe not, yet it appears that the idea of causality is not in the elements, but that some other force builds up with them an organized universe.

EINSTEIN: One tries to understand in the higher plane how the order is. The order is there, where the big elements combine and guide existence, but in the minute elements this order is not perceptible.

TAGORE: Thus duality is in the depths of existence, the contradiction of free impulse and the directive will which works upon it and evolves an orderly scheme of things.

EINSTEIN: Modern physics would not say they are contradictory. Clouds look as one from a distance, but if you see them nearby, they show themselves as disorderly drops of water.

TAGORE: I find a parallel in human psychology. Our passions and desires are unruly, but our character subdues these elements into a harmonious whole. Does something similar to this happen in the physical world? Are the elements rebellious, dynamic with individual impulse? And is there a principle in the physical world which dominates them and puts them into an orderly organization?

EINSTEIN: Even the elements are not without statistical order; elements of radium will always maintain their specific order, now and ever onward, just as they have done all along. There is, then, a statistical order in the elements.

TAGORE: Otherwise, the drama of existence would be too desultory. It is the constant harmony of chance and determination which makes it eternally new and living.

EINSTEIN: I believe that whatever we do or live for has its causality; it is good, however, that we cannot see through to it.

TAGORE: There is in human affairs an element of elasticity also, some freedom within a small range which is for the expression of our personality. It is like the musical system in India, which is not so rigidly fixed as western music. Our composers give a certain definite outline, a system of melody and rhythmic arrangement, and within a certain limit the player can improvise upon it. He must be one with the law of that particular melody, and then he can give spontaneous expression to his musical feeling within the prescribed regulation. We praise the composer for his genius in creating a foundation along with a superstructure of melodies, but we expect from the player his own skill in the creation of variations of melodic flourish and ornamentation. In creation we follow the central law of existence, but if we do not cut ourselves adrift from it, we can have sufficient freedom within the limits of our personality for the fullest self-expression.

EINSTEIN: That is possible only when there is a strong artistic tradition in music to guide the people's mind. In Europe, music has come too far away from popular art and popular feeling and has become something like a secret art with conventions and traditions of its own.

TAGORE: You have to be absolutely obedient to this too complicated music. In India, the measure of a singer's freedom is in his own creative personality. He can sing the composer's song as his own, if he has the power creatively to assert himself in his interpretation of the general law of the melody which he is given to interpret.

EINSTEIN: It requires a very high standard of art to realize fully the great idea in the original music, so that one can make variations upon it. In our country, the variations are often prescribed.

TAGORE: If in our conduct we can follow the law of goodness, we can have real liberty of self-expression. The principle of conduct is there, but the character which makes it true and individual is our own creation. In our music there is a duality of freedom and prescribed order.

EINSTEIN: Are the words of a song also free? I mean to say, is the singer at liberty to add his own words to the song which he is singing?

TAGORE: Yes. In Bengal we have a kind of song-kirtan, we call it-which gives freedom to the singer to introduce parenthetical comments, phrases not in the original song. This occasions great enthusiasm, since the audience is constantly thrilled by some beautiful, spontaneous sentiment added by the singer.

EINSTEIN: Is the metrical form quite severe?

TAGORE: Yes, quite. You cannot exceed the limits of versification; the singer in all his variations must keep the rhythm and the time, which is fixed. In European music you have a comparative liberty with time, but not with melody.

EINSTEIN: Can the Indian music be sung without words? Can one understand a song without words?

TAGORE: Yes, we have songs with unmeaning words, sounds which just help to act as carriers of the notes. In North India, music is an independent art, not the interpretation of words and thoughts, as in Bengal. The music is very intricate and subtle and is a complete world of melody by itself.

EINSTEIN: Is it not polyphonic?

TAGORE: Instruments are used, not for harmony, but for keeping time and adding to the volume and depth. Has melody suffered in your music by the imposition of harmony?

EINSTEIN: Sometimes it does suffer very much. Sometimes the harmony swallows up the melody altogether.

TAGORE: Melody and harmony are like lines and colors in pictures. A simple linear picture may be completely beautiful; the introduction of color may make it vague and insignificant. Yet color may, by combination with lines, create great pictures, so long as it does not smother and destroy their value.

EINSTEIN: It is a beautiful comparison; line is also much older than color. It seems that your melody is much richer in structure than ours. Japanese music also seems to be so.

TAGORE: It is difficult to analyze the effect of eastern and western music on our minds. I am deeply moved by the western music; I feel that it is great, that it is vast in its structure and grand in its composition. Our own music touches me more deeply by its fundamental lyrical appeal. European music is epic in character; it has a broad background and is Gothic in its structure.

EINSTEIN: This is a question we Europeans cannot properly answer, we are so used to our own music. We want to know whether our own music is a conventional or a fundamental human feeling, whether to feel consonance and dissonance is natural, or a convention which we accept.

TAGORE: Somehow the piano confounds me. The violin pleases me much more.

EINSTEIN: It would be interesting to study the effects of European music on an Indian who had never heard it when he was young.

TAGORE: Once I asked an English musician to analyze for me some classical music, and explain to me what elements make for the beauty of the piece.

EINSTEIN: The difficulty is that the really good music, whether of the East or of the West, cannot be analyzed.

TAGORE: Yes, and what deeply affects the hearer is beyond himself.

EINSTEIN: The same uncertainty will always be there about everything fundamental in our experience, in our reaction to art, whether in Europe or in Asia. Even the red flower I see before me on your table may not be the same to you and me.

TAGORE: And yet there is always going on the process of reconciliation between them, the individual taste conforming to the universal standard.
http://[DELINKER]www.schoolofwisdom.com/tagore-einstein.html

Peace

Lover's Gifts XLIV: Where is Heaven

Where is heaven? You ask me, my child, the sages tell us it is beyond the limits of birth and death, unswayed by the rhythm of day and night; it is not of the earth.

But your poet knows that its eternal hunger is for time and space, and it strives evermore to be born in the fruitful dust. Heaven is fulfilled in you sweet body, my child, in your palpitating heart.

The sea is beating its drum in joy, the flowers are a-tiptoe to kiss you. For heaven is born in you, in the arms of the mother-dust.

Rabindranath Tagore

Peace

Seashore

On the seashore of endless worlds children meet.
The infinite sky is motionless overhead
and the restless water is boisterous.
On the seashore of endless worlds
the children meet with shouts and dances.

They build their houses with sand
and they play with empty shells.
With withered leaves they weave their boats
and smilingly float them on the vast deep.
Children have their play on the seashore of worlds.

They know not how to swim, they know not how to cast nets.
Pearl fishers dive for pearls, merchants sail in their ships,
while children gather pebbles and scatter them again.
They seek not for hidden treasures, they know not how to cast nets.

The sea surges up with laughter
and pale gleams the smile of the sea beach.
Death-dealing waves sing meaningless ballads to the children,
even like a mother while rocking her baby’s cradle.
The sea plays with children,
and pale gleams the smile of the sea beach.

On the seashore of endless worlds children meet.
Tempest roams in the pathless sky,
ships get wrecked in the trackless sky,
death is abroad and children play.
On the seashore of endless worlds is the
great meeting of children.

Rabindranath Tagore

Peace

empyrius!

Dear Deepak, a wonderful post of Tagore! It is the poet's I think.. whom sing the praises best, of timelessness, mortality, love, pain and perpetual hope...

with loving kindness, wishing you and yours; a very splendid Christmas Season, from me and mine.

North

And in this Tagore poem, he recognises a godness.

Rabindranith Tagore

“Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high

Where knowledge is free

Where the world has not been broken up into fragments

By narrow domestic walls
Where words come out from the depth of truth
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection

Where the clear stream of reason
has not lost its way
Into the dreary desert sand of dead habit

Where the mind is led forward by thee
Into ever-widening thought and action
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake”

Who/what is Tagore refering to in this poem?

Tagore was so much more than a poet, although in the west he tends to be viewed as a mystic, He was instrumental in bridging eastern and western thought.

An interesting paragraph I found on Tagore

Though he never abandoned his belief that East and West needed each other, and that for India the Western tradition from Homer to Christ to modern literature held spiritual truths, which could not be ignored, he suffered from these conflicts, which he struggled to express in his work.

Seems like a struggle that still continues

Cultural roots, guinevere perhpas?

sorry, tried to stop the post b/c of my typo!!

that should be: perhaps, not perhpas?(blush)

Oh Glorious Day
to wake
and find the garden
full of wonderful,,,Zen Fully Yours

hmmmm

I wonder who Tagore would be if he was reincarnated.

Smita's Prayer

O my Infinite Being, days and night turn into months, years and ages. We are born to die, but you, O Lord of the ageless ages, you wait, you never die as you were born out of the spaceless space andthe timeless time.

Centuries have passed in your perfect Intelligent Design. Earth never spoutedfires from it's belly. Fire-gods and storms-gods consulted with tsunami-gods, drought-gods, plague-gods, aids-gods --though still greenhorns--and everything in this world occurred as you perfectly designed, till man began using his head andcame with strange things such as physics, chemistry, astronomy and biology, along with myriad other sciences hard to make sense to the bonehead masses.

Scientists brought us to into the modern world out of the caves of the dark ages. But we have now no time to lose, they're already taking over the world. I fear if no people are left, who will listen to me.

Your alter is getting empty, O Lord. Not many left to worship you. Not many left to hear prayers in which I daily sing your praises.

Every night I hurry in fear to serve the spiritually hungry masses, lest it's too late to reach the critical masses to decimate all science in the world and to go back to live in the caves of the dark ages.

Reposted from my blog at

mayamyna.blogspot.com

Tagore Rocks!

"I can never forget that scrap of a song I once heard in the early
dawn in the midst of the din of the crowd that had collected for
a festival the night before: "Ferryman, take me across to the
other shore!"

In the bustle of all our work there comes out this cry, "Take me
across." The carter in India sings while driving his cart, "Take
me across." The itinerant grocer deals out his goods to his
customers and sings, "Take me across".

What is the meaning of this cry? We feel we have not reached our
goal; and we know with all our striving and toiling we do not
come to the end, we do not attain our object. Like a child
dissatisfied with its dolls, our heart cries, "Not this, not
this." But what is that other? Where is the further shore?

Is it something else than what we have? Is it somewhere else
than where we are? Is it to take rest from all our works, to be
relieved from all the responsibilities of life?

No, in the very heart of our activities we are seeking for our
end. We are crying for the across, even where we stand. So,
while our lips utter their prayer to be carried away, our busy
hands are never idle.

In truth, thou ocean of joy, this shore and the other shore are
one and the same in thee. When I call this my own, the other
lies estranged; and missing the sense of that completeness which
is in me, my heart incessantly cries out for the other. All my
this, and that other, are waiting to be completely reconciled in
thy love.

This "I" of mine toils hard, day and night, for a home which it
knows as its own. Alas, there will be no end of its sufferings
so long as it is not able to call this home thine. Till then it
will struggle on, and its heart will ever cry, "Ferryman, lead me
across." When this home of mine is made thine, that very moment
is it taken across, even while its old walls enclose it. This
"I" is restless. It is working for a gain which can never be
assimilated with its spirit, which it never can hold and retain.
In its efforts to clasp in its own arms that which is for all, it
hurts others and is hurt in its turn, and cries, "Lead me across".
But as soon as it is able to say, "All my work is thine," everything
remains the same, only it is taken across.

Where can I meet thee unless in this mine home made thine? Where
can I join thee unless in this my work transformed into thy work?
If I leave my home I shall not reach thy home; if I cease my work
I can never join thee in thy work. For thou dwellest in me and I
in thee. Thou without me or I without thee are nothing.

Therefore, in the midst of our home and our work, the prayer rises, "Lead me across!" For here rolls the sea, and even here
lies the other shore waiting to be reached--yes, here is this
everlasting present, not distant, not anywhere else."
-----
"All our egoistic impulses, our selfish desires, obscure our true
vision of the soul. For they only indicate our own narrow self. When we are conscious of our soul, we perceive the inner being
that transcends our ego and has its deeper affinity with the All."
-----
"consciousness, to
God-consciousness, is in the consciousness of the soul. To know our soul apart from the self is the first step towards the
realisation of the supreme deliverance."
-----
"The doctrine of deliverance that Buddha preached was the freedom
from the thraldom of Avidya. Avidya is the ignorance that darkens our consciousness, and tends to limit it within the
boundaries of our personal self. It is this Avidya, this ignorance, this limiting of consciousness that creates the hard
separateness of the ego, and thus becomes the source of all pride and greed and cruelty incidental to self-seeking."
-----
"Only those of tranquil minds, and none else, can attain abiding joy, by realising within their
souls the Being who manifests one essence in a multiplicity of
forms."
-----
"Hence it is said, "Blessed are they which do hunger and
thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled." For
righteousness is the divine food of the soul; nothing but this can fill him, can make him live the life of the infinite, can
help him in his growth towards the eternal."
-----
"Pleasure is for one's own self, but goodness is concerned with the happiness of all humanity and for all time."
-----
"This is the vision of the heavenly kingdom of Christ. When we attain to
that universal life, which is the moral life, we become freed from the bonds of pleasure and pain, and the place vacated by our self becomes filled with an unspeakable joy which springs from measureless love. In this state the soul's activity is all the
more heightened, only its motive power is not from desires, but in its own joy. This is the Karma-yoga of the Gita, the way
to become one with the infinite activity by the exercise of the activity of disinterested goodness."
-----
"We hanker after special gains for ourselves, we want to enjoy privileges which none else can
share with us. But everything that is absolutely special must
keep up a perpetual warfare with what is general. In such a state of civil war man always lives behind barricades, and in any civilisation which is selfish our homes are not real homes, but
artificial barriers around us. Yet we complain that we are not happy, as if there were something inherent in the nature of
things to make us miserable. The universal spirit is waiting to
crown us with happiness, but our individual spirit would not accept it. It is our life of the self that causes conflicts and
complications everywhere, upsets the normal balance of society and gives rise to miseries of all kinds. It brings things to such a pass that to maintain order we have to create artificial coercions and organised forms of tyranny, and tolerate infernal institutions in our midst, whereby at every moment humanity is
humiliated."
-----
"when we say, "I love," then there is no room for the "why"; it is the final answer in itself."
-----
"But were we born for this, to extend our proprietary rights over this world and make of it a marketable commodity? When our whole mind is bent
only upon making use of this world it loses for us its true value. We make it cheap by our sordid desires; and thus to the
end of our days we only try to feed upon it and miss its truth, just like the greedy child who tears leaves from a precious book
and tries to swallow them.

In the lands where cannibalism is prevalent man looks upon man as
his food. In such a country civilisation can never thrive, for there man loses his higher value and is made common indeed. But there are other kinds of cannibalism, perhaps not so gross, but not less heinous, for which one need not travel far. In
countries higher in the scale of civilisation we find sometimes man looked upon as a mere body, and he is bought and sold in the market by the price of his flesh only. And sometimes he gets his
sole value from being useful; he is made into a machine, and is traded upon by the man of money to acquire for him more money. Thus our lust, our greed, our love of comfort result in cheapening man to his lowest value. It is self deception on a large scale. Our desires blind us to the truth that there is in man, and this is the greatest wrong done by ourselves to our own soul. It deadens our consciousness, and is but a gradual method of spiritual suicide. It produces ugly sores in the body of civilisation, gives rise to its hovels and brothels, its
vindictive penal codes, its cruel prison systems, its organised method of exploiting foreign races to the extent of permanently injuring them by depriving them of the discipline of self-government and means of self-defence."
-----
"When we define a man by the market value of the service we can expect of him, we know him imperfectly. With this limited knowledge of him it becomes easy for us to be unjust to him and
to entertain feelings of triumphant self-congratulation when, on
account of some cruel advantage on our side, we can get out of him much more than we have paid for. But when we know him as a spirit we know him as our own. We at once feel that cruelty to him is cruelty to ourselves, to make him small is stealing from our own humanity, and in seeking to make use of him solely for personal profit we merely gain in money or comfort what we pay in truth."
-----
"In love all the contradictions of existence merge themselves and are lost. Only in love are unity and duality not at variance. Love must be one and two at the same time."

[excerpts from "Sadhana: The Realisation of Life"

http://[DELINKER]www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext04/sdhna10.txt

Peace

Dear Dr. Chopra,

Thanks for bringing up Tagore.

What a coincidence! I was just reading a book called "Freedom" The courage to be yourself, by OSHO, and he was praising this poet, Rabindranath Tagore, and comparing him to Kahlil Gibran, and Friedrich Nietzsche. He said they were poets of the highest category, but in addition to that, and only rarely seen in humanity, they were also mystics.

In one of Tagore’s poems, which Osho quotes, he says,

“Obstinate are the Trammels, but my heart aches when I try to break them.
Freedom is all I want, but to hope for it, I feel ashamed.
I am certain that priceless worth is in thee, and that thou art my best friend,
But I have not the heart to sweep away the tinsel that fills my room.
The shroud that covers me is a shroud of dust and death; I hate it, yet hug it in love.
My debts are large, my failures great, my shame secret and heavy.
Yet when I come to ask for my good, I quake in fear lest my prayer be granted.”

I can relate very much to this poem!

Thanks, and Kind Regards,
Stan

THE BODY OF GOD

God is the great urge that has not yet found a body
but urges towards incarnation with the great creative urge.

And becomes at last a clove carnation: lo! that is god!
and becomes at last Helen, or Ninon:
any lovely and generous woman
at her best and her most beautiful, being god, made manifest,
any clear and fearless man being god, very god.

There is no god
apart from poppies and the flying fish,
men singing songs, and women brushing their hair in the sun.
The lovely things are god that has come to pass, like Jesus came.
The rest, the undiscoverable, is the demi-urge.

.

D.H. Lawrence: Selected Poetry 1928-9

Dear Stan,
I hope you and your family are well. I know the Philippines have been hit hard by the typhoon.
Love,
~ Kate

Truly a beautiful poem. Thank you, Deepak.

There always seems to be enough time for gratitude.

In gratitude for this day,

Love,
Jori

Dupery for dupery,
faith or ‘random’ chance,
what will we believe, and
how does his affect the way we act.

Men of faith seeking to preach
and convert, whilst fighting their sin;
other men watching football
and eyeing Lindsay Lohan.

iPod in hand, cell phone on hum,
browsing history and cookies (hopefully) erased,
to save face,
when judgment comes.

Normal men being normal,
heeding their wife,
raising their daughters and sons,
to pay taxes and fight for the state.

Dupery for dupery,
faith or ‘random’ chance,
what will we believe, and
how does his affect the way we act.

Capitalism is the way Christmas time is here,
if you buy not gifts your love is insincere.
The amount of credit a plastic card has,
proves to your children how to you they are dear.

The elderly go to midnight mass,
b/c their glory days are past,
and middle-agers dress in clothes of fine linen,
to show that their faith is beyond question.

For thine is the kingdom . . .

Unfurl that flag and worship ‘old glory,’
put it upon a podium next to the Cross,
preach to the little ones how w/o Christ they are lost,
donations are appreciated b/c preacher 2 needs to get paid.

O how I love red white and blue.

Dupery for dupery,
faith or ‘random’ chance,
what will we believe, and
how does his affect the way we act.

Get a degree and work for the state,
or become a lawyer and be a sports agent,
and watch the law from Hollywood emanate,
b/c we need to know what fashion is up to date.

The movies will show us our enemy and who to hate,
for they are but the Ministry of ‘Truth’ for the state.
Charles Krauthammer and George Will
will provide the notes in the margin . . .

for truly enquiring minds that want to ‘know’ . . .

Tis all background shrill to keep us busy,
so we can pretend this is a democracy;
meanwhile do not forget to buy your child that PS3;
so he can prepare by playing ‘Men at War.’

Maybe Howie Mandel can get you to bet your bottom dollar.

So vote for that Senator who has been in office for 30 years,
or for the other candidate their party spent 20 million on
to ring your ears; and donate to the local law school
to educate the sons and daughters of the local elite;

after all this is democracy and you need money to participate.

Dupery for dupery,
faith or ‘random’ chance,
what will we believe, and
how does his affect the way we act.

Peace

Emperor empyrius,

Now that we know the risks involved

and what is at stake here,

I'll wager top dollar on nineteen...

this man rolls the dice nicely!

Ye shan't say, "Bah Humbug!"

if ye place your bets on Tiny Tim!

Happy holidays to you, bro!

Oh yeah...

Unto you this day is born

the greatest story ever told...

PEACE ON EARTH

T'WARDS MEN

WITH GOOD WILL!

One day a year,

be there!

Me2

Well I had to come up with something after that killer 16 post! As I wish you too a wholesome holiday cheer Keith.

May the Lord within His heavenly manor us keep!

Peace

Highly beautiful, this poem of Tagore, Deepak!

"… It is not surprising to note that they are always busy people in the field of the action who proclaim that one can all obtain by the action and more particularly by the mode of vedic action than provides without question a direct way for obtaining any thing. This point of view, although completely legitimate in the relative field of the life, does not take obviously account of the Been the Absolute one. The manifested fields and not-manifested of life include all the Reality together. Those which does have only the vedic wisdom of the karma Kanda limit their aspirations to the only manifested field. Their knowledge of the action clearly does not provide them the knowledge of the not-manifested field of the Reality. ..."

- Maharishi Mahesh Yogi - The Bhagavad Gita - description verse 44

THOUGHT

Thought, I love thought.
But not the juggling and twisting of already existent ideas
I despise that self-important game.
Thought is the welling up of unknown life into consciousness,
Thought is the testing of statements on the
touchstone of the conscience,
Thought is gazing on to the face of life,
and reading what can be read,
Thought is pondering over experience,
and coming to a conclusion.
Thought is not a trick, or an exercise, or a set of dodges,
Thought is a man in his wholeness wholly attending.

D.H. Lawrence: Selected Poetry 1928-9

.

For myself, thoughts do not come to me as
mathematical equations.
I do not base my decisions on numbers rummaging
inside my head, nor outside my brain,
unless we're talking about my checkbook.

Could it be that a lack of communication
between science and religious thought,
is the very same impossible dialogue
facing mathmatics and a language of words?

Translating symbols that come as visual representations
of facts and reality is a job for who?

A physics professor or a master bard?

Dear Keith,

Just some thoughts:

Your question : "Translating symbols that come as visual representations of facts and reality is a job for who?"

Could it be by a physics professor AND a master bard?

Perhaps if we could start thinking more: and, and, instead of and, or..., our understanding deepens?

Here a little poem anticipating on the holiday season:

It is Christmas time again
The season of renewal
Love, faith and maths, sharing
All that is beautiful
Chimes beat greatly into every heart
uniting celebrations
Of Spirit, togetherness, and affirmation.

Hey, Mieke!

I'll agree that math can have it's own "ah-ha" moments,

and that they feel similar to communications

producing "ah-ha"s through language.

All of our senses can have these.

Maybe they are all based on symetry?

Nice, one Deepak,
and on that subject,
could you spamm this Turkish princess,
with some.. magic,

She's bugging me,
seriously,
dilek_ar@hotmail.com

;)

Girls love, that kind of ..
;)

Love, Passion

In the end they are Keith :)