by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941)
Translation © by Bertram Kottmann

Thou hast made me endless, such is thy...
Language: English  after the Bangla (Bengali) 
Available translation(s): FRE GER
Thou hast made me endless, such is thy pleasure. 
This frail vessel thou emptiest again and again, 
and fillest it ever with fresh life.

This little flute of a reed 
thou hast carried over hills and dales, 
and hast breathed through it 
melodies eternally new.

At the immortal touch of thy hands 
my little heart loses its limits 
in joy and gives birth to utterance ineffable.

Thy infinite gifts come to me 
only on these very small hands of mine. 
Ages pass, and still thou pourest, 
and still there is room to fill.

About the headline (FAQ)


Based on

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

Settings in other languages, adaptations, or excerpts:

  • Also set in Italian (Italiano), a translation by Anonymous/Unidentified Artist ; composed by Dino Menichetti.

Other available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , "Tu m'as fait sans fin, tel est ton plaisir", copyright © 2013, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (André Gide) , first published 1917
  • GER German (Deutsch) (Bertram Kottmann) , copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2010-11-03
Line count: 14
Word count: 93

Dass du ohn’ Ende mich gestaltest, ist...
Language: German (Deutsch)  after the English 
Dass du ohn’ Ende mich gestaltest, ist dir zur Freud’.
Dies, mein zerbrechliches Gefäß, gießt du aufs Neue immer wieder aus
und füllst es stets mit neuem Leben.

Und diese kleine Flöte, geschnitten aus dem Rohr, 
nimmst du mit über Berg und Tal.
Dein Atemstrom entlockt ihr 
ewig neue Melodien.

Und rühren deine ew’gen Hände 
an mein Herz, wird seine Freude grenzenlos, 
und es gebiert Unsägliches.

Und Unermessliches schenkst du mir 
in meine unbedeutenden Hände.
Die Zeiten gehn, du schenkst und schenkst, 
und doch ist noch nicht aller Raum erfüllt.

About the headline (FAQ)


  • Translation from English to German (Deutsch) copyright © 2014 by Bertram Kottmann, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you must ask the copyright-holder(s) directly for permission. If you receive no response, you must consider it a refusal.

    Bertram Kottmann.  Contact: BKottmann (AT)

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Based onBased on


This text was added to the website: 2014-03-31
Line count: 14
Word count: 90