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138 reviews for:
The Gitanjali (English): The Nobel prize Winner Book for Literature
Rabindranath Tagore
4.14 AVERAGE
138 reviews for:
The Gitanjali (English): The Nobel prize Winner Book for Literature
Rabindranath Tagore
4.14 AVERAGE
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
N/A
Strong character development:
N/A
Loveable characters:
N/A
Diverse cast of characters:
N/A
Flaws of characters a main focus:
N/A
Gitanjali by Rabindranath Tagore is not just a book; it is an experience—a luminous journey through devotion, longing, and the eternal dance between the human and the divine. These verses sing with a purity that feels both ancient and timeless, a meditative offering that whispers to the soul.
As I immersed myself in its pages, I felt as though I were standing at the edge of infinity, where the boundaries between the earthly and the celestial blur into a sacred unity. This is poetry as prayer, as yearning, as transcendence—a work that holds the power to stir even the most dormant corners of the heart.
At the heart of Gitanjali lies an intimate dialogue between the self and the infinite. These "song offerings" are expressions of surrender and gratitude, an unending search for union with the divine. Yet, Tagore’s vision of the divine is not confined to religious constructs; it is expansive, omnipresent, and deeply personal—a god found as much in the rustle of leaves as in the quiet of the poet’s own heart.
Themes of impermanence run through the collection like a soft, persistent current. He reflects on the fragility of life not with fear but with reverence, seeing mortality as a gateway to eternity. Each poem feels like a tender exploration of what it means to be human in the face of the infinite: to love, to yearn, to surrender, and ultimately, to belong to something greater than oneself.
There is also a subtle interplay between the personal and the universal. While Tagore writes from a deeply rooted Indian spiritual tradition, his words transcend borders and creeds. His poetry bridges the temporal and the eternal, the individual and the collective, weaving a tapestry that speaks to the core of human existence.
In the absence of traditional characters, the poet himself emerges as a central presence—a seeker of truths, a pilgrim navigating the vastness of his inner and outer worlds. His voice is humble, yearning, and profoundly human. He is not the voice of authority but of vulnerability, someone willing to lay bare his doubts, fears, and moments of wonder.
Opposite him stands the divine—not as a distant, unreachable entity but as an intimate companion. This god is multifaceted: at times a guide, at times a beloved, and at times an enigma. Tagore’s relationship with the divine is dynamic and deeply emotional, and it is this interplay—between devotion and questioning, closeness and longing—that gives Gitanjali its depth and resonance.
His language is nothing short of sublime. Even in translation, his words shimmer with a quiet, unassuming beauty. There is a simplicity to his verses that belies their depth, a clarity that feels almost sacred.
His imagery is rooted in nature—the endless sky, the flowing river, the quiet rustle of leaves—but these elements are imbued with a sense of the eternal. Each image feels both tangible and transcendent, grounding the reader in the physical world while pointing toward something far greater.
What sets Tagore apart is his ability to create poetry that feels like song. Each line is imbued with rhythm and melody, carrying the reader along as though on a gentle current. The result is a collection that feels alive, its words resonating not just in the mind but in the heart.
Reading Gitanjali felt like entering a sacred space. There is a stillness in Tagore’s words that invites reflection, a quiet power that urges the reader to pause and listen—not just to the poetry but to the murmurs of their own soul.
I was struck by the courage in his vulnerability, his willingness to confront the mysteries of existence with both humility and wonder. His words stirred something deep within me, a sense of connection to the eternal that is often forgotten in the rush of daily life.
This collection is more than a testament to Tagore’s literary genius; it is a testament to the boundless potential of the human spirit to seek, to create, and to connect.
Gitanjali is not a book to be rushed through; it is a work to be savored, pondered, and returned to. It is a quiet yet profound reminder of the sacredness of life, the beauty of humility, and the infinite possibilities of the human soul.
While its devotional tone and repetitive structure may not resonate with everyone, for those willing to enter its world, the book offers a rare and timeless gift—a glimpse into the heart of a poet who dared to touch the eternal.
As I immersed myself in its pages, I felt as though I were standing at the edge of infinity, where the boundaries between the earthly and the celestial blur into a sacred unity. This is poetry as prayer, as yearning, as transcendence—a work that holds the power to stir even the most dormant corners of the heart.
At the heart of Gitanjali lies an intimate dialogue between the self and the infinite. These "song offerings" are expressions of surrender and gratitude, an unending search for union with the divine. Yet, Tagore’s vision of the divine is not confined to religious constructs; it is expansive, omnipresent, and deeply personal—a god found as much in the rustle of leaves as in the quiet of the poet’s own heart.
Themes of impermanence run through the collection like a soft, persistent current. He reflects on the fragility of life not with fear but with reverence, seeing mortality as a gateway to eternity. Each poem feels like a tender exploration of what it means to be human in the face of the infinite: to love, to yearn, to surrender, and ultimately, to belong to something greater than oneself.
There is also a subtle interplay between the personal and the universal. While Tagore writes from a deeply rooted Indian spiritual tradition, his words transcend borders and creeds. His poetry bridges the temporal and the eternal, the individual and the collective, weaving a tapestry that speaks to the core of human existence.
In the absence of traditional characters, the poet himself emerges as a central presence—a seeker of truths, a pilgrim navigating the vastness of his inner and outer worlds. His voice is humble, yearning, and profoundly human. He is not the voice of authority but of vulnerability, someone willing to lay bare his doubts, fears, and moments of wonder.
Opposite him stands the divine—not as a distant, unreachable entity but as an intimate companion. This god is multifaceted: at times a guide, at times a beloved, and at times an enigma. Tagore’s relationship with the divine is dynamic and deeply emotional, and it is this interplay—between devotion and questioning, closeness and longing—that gives Gitanjali its depth and resonance.
His language is nothing short of sublime. Even in translation, his words shimmer with a quiet, unassuming beauty. There is a simplicity to his verses that belies their depth, a clarity that feels almost sacred.
His imagery is rooted in nature—the endless sky, the flowing river, the quiet rustle of leaves—but these elements are imbued with a sense of the eternal. Each image feels both tangible and transcendent, grounding the reader in the physical world while pointing toward something far greater.
What sets Tagore apart is his ability to create poetry that feels like song. Each line is imbued with rhythm and melody, carrying the reader along as though on a gentle current. The result is a collection that feels alive, its words resonating not just in the mind but in the heart.
Reading Gitanjali felt like entering a sacred space. There is a stillness in Tagore’s words that invites reflection, a quiet power that urges the reader to pause and listen—not just to the poetry but to the murmurs of their own soul.
I was struck by the courage in his vulnerability, his willingness to confront the mysteries of existence with both humility and wonder. His words stirred something deep within me, a sense of connection to the eternal that is often forgotten in the rush of daily life.
This collection is more than a testament to Tagore’s literary genius; it is a testament to the boundless potential of the human spirit to seek, to create, and to connect.
Gitanjali is not a book to be rushed through; it is a work to be savored, pondered, and returned to. It is a quiet yet profound reminder of the sacredness of life, the beauty of humility, and the infinite possibilities of the human soul.
While its devotional tone and repetitive structure may not resonate with everyone, for those willing to enter its world, the book offers a rare and timeless gift—a glimpse into the heart of a poet who dared to touch the eternal.
Very spiritual and seems to be a search for his own beliefs. So much so you feel like you're intruding on his personal reflections.
emotional
reflective
medium-paced
emotional
hopeful
reflective
relaxing
Plot or Character Driven:
N/A
Strong character development:
N/A
Loveable characters:
N/A
Diverse cast of characters:
N/A
Flaws of characters a main focus:
N/A
emotional
hopeful
inspiring
lighthearted
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
N/A
Strong character development:
N/A
Loveable characters:
N/A
Diverse cast of characters:
N/A
Flaws of characters a main focus:
N/A
reflective
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
N/A
Strong character development:
N/A
Loveable characters:
N/A
Diverse cast of characters:
N/A
Flaws of characters a main focus:
N/A
Because I read Rabindranath Tagore's Gitanjali ("Song Offerings") via an app called Serial Reader, I'm not really sure if it was formatted the way it's meant to be, and I couldn't spot details like whether this is the translation done by the author, but all the same it was an enchanting collection of poetry that constantly had me highlighting lines here and there. It's hard to choose any to share, especially because I don't know if the translation is any good -- but definitely it's something I'd like to return to, perhaps even have a copy of, and perhaps read more about in general (more context, maybe discussion of the translation, etc).
Bottom line is, it's lovely: beautiful imagery, joyful, spiritual, thoughtful. There were few among the collection that I didn't like at all, and many that spoke to me.
A very worthwhile read, all in all, and one I'm glad I stumbled upon.
Bottom line is, it's lovely: beautiful imagery, joyful, spiritual, thoughtful. There were few among the collection that I didn't like at all, and many that spoke to me.
A very worthwhile read, all in all, and one I'm glad I stumbled upon.
hopeful
inspiring
reflective
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
N/A
Strong character development:
N/A
Loveable characters:
N/A
Diverse cast of characters:
N/A
Flaws of characters a main focus:
N/A
This book is originally called Gitanjali, meaing "Song Offerings" - the poems are meant to be sung as spirituals, with Tagore playing his sitar. Although many of the poems are breathtaking, my favorite was this one, #114:
When Death at last at day'e end makes his way
towards your door
What riches will you give him on that day?
My life's full store,
Laying out before,
an empty farewell then I shall not say -
When Death at last to my door makes his way.
So many autumn and spring nights,
so many dusk and dawn delights,
So many feelings fill life's cup with rain -
so many fruits, so many flowers
touch my heart with all the hours
of joy and sorrow, light and shade again.
What riches I
have gained thereby,
on that last day to him I shall display -
when Death at last to my door makes his way.
When Death at last at day'e end makes his way
towards your door
What riches will you give him on that day?
My life's full store,
Laying out before,
an empty farewell then I shall not say -
When Death at last to my door makes his way.
So many autumn and spring nights,
so many dusk and dawn delights,
So many feelings fill life's cup with rain -
so many fruits, so many flowers
touch my heart with all the hours
of joy and sorrow, light and shade again.
What riches I
have gained thereby,
on that last day to him I shall display -
when Death at last to my door makes his way.
This was my second or third time reading this collection of poems (or songs), but this time I read it after visiting Tagore's home in Kolkata. The themes range from the spiritual to the political, from love to nature, but ultimately I don't feel they stand together cohesively as a set of poems. My favourite lines continue to be those that are studied by so many Indian school children:
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 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
emotional
inspiring
reflective
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
N/A
Strong character development:
N/A
Loveable characters:
N/A
Diverse cast of characters:
N/A
Flaws of characters a main focus:
N/A
So I don’t much like to read poems. That problem is entirely mine. Tagore’s writing is brilliant. There is so much to ponder between these lines. It feels like this is one poem that will definitely speak to you whatever your state of mind might be. There’s something for the lovers, something for the youth, something for the elderly, something for the downtrodden, something for the ecstatic, something for the godly. A truly great composition.