The Gardener XLV: To the Guests

Rabindranath Tagore

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To the guests that must go bid
God's speed and brush away all traces
of their steps.
Take to your bosom with a smile
what is easy and simple and near.
To-day is the festival of phantoms
that know not when they die.
Let your laughter be but a meaning-
less mirth like twinkles of light on
the ripples.
Let your life lightly dance on the
edges of Time like dew on the tip of
a leaf.
Strike in chords from your harp
fitful momentary rhythms.

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Comments1
  • alicab81724092

    I really enjoyed this poem, especially the part that says "Let your life lightly dance on the edges of Time like dew on the tip of a leaf." It makes me think about the importance of living in the moment and enjoying life. However, I'm a bit confused about what the poet meant by "festival of phantoms." Can anyone explain that to me?