LiederNet logo

CONTENTS

×
  • Home | Introduction
  • Composers (20,109)
  • Text Authors (19,482)
  • Go to a Random Text
  • What’s New
  • A Small Tour
  • FAQ & Links
  • Donors
  • DONATE

UTILITIES

  • Search Everything
  • Search by Surname
  • Search by Title or First Line
  • Search by Year
  • Search by Collection

CREDITS

  • Emily Ezust
  • Contributors (1,114)
  • Contact Information
  • Bibliography

  • Copyright Statement
  • Privacy Policy

Follow us on Facebook

by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941)
Translation by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941)

I thought I should ask of thee ‑ but I...
Language: English  after the Bangla (Bengali) 
Our translations:  GER
I thought I should ask of thee - but I dared not - 
the rose wreath thou hadst on thy neck. 
Thus I waited for the morning, when thou didst depart, 
to find a few fragments on the bed. 
And like a beggar I searched in the dawn 
only for a stray petal or two.

Ah me, what is it I find? 
What token left of thy love? 
It is no flower, no spices, 
no vase of perfumed water. 
It is thy mighty sword, flashing as a flame, 
heavy as a bolt of thunder. 
The young light of morning comes through the window 
and spread itself upon thy bed. 
The morning bird twitters and asks, 
'Woman, what hast thou got?' 
No, it is no flower, nor spices, 
nor vase of perfumed water - 
it is thy dreadful sword.

I sit and muse in wonder, 
what gift is this of thine. 
I can find no place to hide it.
I am ashamed to wear it, frail as I am, 
and it hurts me when press it to my bosom. 
Yet shall I bear in my heart this honour 
of the burden of pain, this gift of thine.

From now there shall be no fear 
left for me in this world, 
and thou shalt be victorious in all my strife. 
Thou hast left death for my companion 
and I shall crown him with my life. 
Thy sword is with me to cut asunder my bonds, 
and there shall be no fear left for me in the world.

From now I leave off all petty decorations. 
Lord of my heart, no more shall there be 
for me waiting and weeping in corners, 
no more coyness and sweetness of demeanour. 
Thou hast given me thy sword for adornment. 
No more doll's decorations for me!

About the headline (FAQ)

Text Authorship:

  • by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941), no title, appears in Gitanjali, no. 52, 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), appears in গীতাঞ্জলি (Gitanjali), no. 52 [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):

    [ None yet in the database ]

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: 2010-11-03
Line count: 39
Word count: 297

Gentle Reminder

This website began in 1995 as a personal project by Emily Ezust, who has been working on it full-time without a salary since 2008. Our research has never had any government or institutional funding, so if you found the information here useful, please consider making a donation. Your help is greatly appreciated!
–Emily Ezust, Founder

Donate

We use cookies for internal analytics and to earn much-needed advertising revenue. (Did you know you can help support us by turning off ad-blockers?) To learn more, see our Privacy Policy. To learn how to opt out of cookies, please visit this site.

I acknowledge the use of cookies

Contact
Copyright
Privacy

Copyright © 2025 The LiederNet Archive

Site redesign by Shawn Thuris