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ON THE NATURE OF REALITY

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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 be shut;
but I find that yet there is time.

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Endless Time by Rabindranath Tagore

Rabindranath Tagore became the embodiment of how the west wanted to see the east. Photograph: Hulton ArchiveRabindranath Tagore (1861-1941) was a Bengali polymath and a renaissance man of his era. He was born in Kolkata, India.

His novels, stories, songs, dance-dramas, and essays have been an epicenter of wisdom. Tagore was the first ever Asian recipient of the Nobel Prize.

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Beginning with Einstein’s discoveries in the early 1900s, time became a curvature of space-time. It is still a huge discovery. It came from no-place as it seems to Einstein by Gedankenexperiment (“mind” experiments — thought experiments carried out in the mind only). The universe is somehow constructed on subatomic particles that flit in and out of space-time. Watch this short video for some artistic insight:

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Thanks for visiting.

New post Eric

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I am a tree… today
I just looked around
if – a poem by Kipling
can you have the greatest love of all?
Give Me Your Eyes
awake my soul

Jan 23, 2014

endless time by rabindranath tagore summary

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