He it is, the innermost one, who awakens my being with his deep hidden touches. He it is who puts his enchantment upon these eyes and joyfully plays on the chords of my heart in varied cadence of pleasure and pain. He it is who weaves the web of this maya in evanescent hues of gold and silver, blue and green, and lets peep out through the folds his feet, at whose touch I forget myself. Days come and ages pass, and it is ever he who moves my heart ...

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Rabindranath Tagore was born on 7th May, 1861 in the city of Calcutta, West Bengal, India. His father, Debendranath Tagore, was a leader of the Brahmo Samaj. Tagore was educated at his home, however he was sent to England when he was seventeen for the formal education. Apart from his literary works, Tagore was managing his family estates and also took part in various social reforms and nationalist movements. Tagore was a very successful writer of Bengal initially and after his ...

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Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run; To bend with apples the moss'd cottage trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease, For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their ...

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