A Moments Indulgence
I ask for a moment's indulgence to sit by thy side. The works
that I have in hand I will finish afterwards.
Away from the sight of thy face my heart knows no rest nor respite,
and my work becomes an endless toil in a shoreless sea of toil.
Today the summer has come at my window with its sighs and murmurs; and
the bees are plying their minstrelsy at the court of the flowering grove.
Now it is time to sit quite, face to face with thee, and to sing
dedication of life in this silent and overflowing leisure.
Rabindranath Tagore's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (A Moments Indulgence by Rabindranath Tagore )
Did you read them?
- Similar yet different, Nassy Fesharaki
- Early To Bed, Michael McParland
- Burnt Offerings, John Tansey
- On the Day Isaac Lay Upon the Rock, Guillermo Veloso
- 567, Mandolyn ...
- A Painful Extraction, Greg Costello
- Never Conquering Friendship, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- At shoes' stores, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- Hindsight Can Not Be Blinded, Lawrence S. Pertillar
- It's impossible, MOHAMMAD SKATI
Poem of the Day
- Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
- If, Rudyard Kipling
- Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Home And Love, Robert William Service
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)
- Heather Burns