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

Time is endless in thy hands, my lord
Language: English  after the Bangla (Bengali) 
Our translations:  GER
Time is endless in thy hands, my lord. 
There is none to count thy minutes.

Days and nights pass 
and ages bloom and fade like flowers. 
Thou knowest how to wait.

Thy centuries follow each other 
perfecting a small wild flower.

We have no time to lose, 
and having no time 
we must scramble for a chance. 
We are too poor to be late.

And thus it is that time goes by 
while I give it to every querulous man who claims it, 
and thine altar is empty of all offerings to the last.

At the end of the day I hasten in fear 
lest thy gate to be shut; 
but I find that yet there is time.

About the headline (FAQ)

Text Authorship:

  • by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941), no title, appears in Gitanjali, no. 82, first published 1912 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]

Based on:

  • a text in Bangla (Bengali) by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941), no title, appears in গীতাঞ্জলি (Gitanjali), no. 82 [text unavailable]
    • Go to the text page.

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

  • by Josef Alexander (1907 - 1992), "Time is endless", 1973 [ soprano, harpsichord, and percussion ], from Gitanjali, no. 7 [sung text not yet checked]

Settings in other languages, adaptations, or excerpts:

  • Also set in German (Deutsch), a translation by Anonymous/Unidentified Artist ; composed by Claus Ogermann.
    • Go to the text.

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

  • 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: 2005-01-17
Line count: 17
Word count: 118

Endlos ist Zeit in deinen Händen, Herr
Language: German (Deutsch)  after the English 
Endlos ist Zeit in deinen Händen, Herr,
und niemand kann je die Minuten zählen.

Vorbei ziehn Tage, Nächte,
Zeitalter blühen auf und ab wie Blumen.
Du weißt zu warten, Herr.

Jahrhundert folgt Jahrhundert,
vollkommnet dabei eine kleine wilde Blume.

Wir dürfen keine Zeit verlieren,
und da wir sie nicht haben,
müssen wir sie erjagen.
Zu wenig haben wir an ihr, um etwas zu versäumen.

So ist es, dass die Zeit vergeht,
und ich sie jedem Nörgler widme,
doch dein Altar bleibt ohne Gaben bis zuletzt.

Wenn dann der Tag sich neigt, beeil’ ich mich voll Furcht,
dass deine Tür verschlossen;
doch stell’ ich fest, mir ist noch Zeit gewährt.

About the headline (FAQ)

Text Authorship:

  • 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) t-online.de

    If you wish to commission a new translation, please contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net

Based on:

  • a text in English by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941), no title, appears in Gitanjali, no. 82, first published 1912
    • Go to the text page.

Based on:

  • a text in Bangla (Bengali) by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941), no title, appears in গীতাঞ্জলি (Gitanjali), no. 82 [text unavailable]
    • Go to the text page.

 

This text was added to the website: 2014-07-11
Line count: 17
Word count: 109

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