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Prose

Journey together through innumerable worlds of fiction with Prose, a biweekly podcast series that offers up short stories of all genres and subject matter. If you like fiction of all sorts with the occasional bit of poetry or verse thrown in for good measure, join us on our adventures through the labyrinths of the human psyche and the infinite spaces of the imagination.
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Mar 8, 2018

Today, Prose is bringing you a very special midweek episode in honor of its founder's younger brother and bff's birthday!  This celebration takes the form of a reading of an elegant poem:  "The Gardener Lxviii: None Lives For Ever, Brother" by Rabindranath Tagore.  The text is below for those unfamiliar who might like to follow along.

 

None lives for ever, brother, and
nothing lasts for long. Keep that in
mind and rejoice.
Our life is not the one old burden,
our path is not the one long
journey.
One sole poet has not to sing one
aged song.
The flower fades and dies; but he
who wears the flower has not to
mourn for it for ever.
Brother, keep that in mind and
rejoice.
There must come a full pause to
weave perfection into music.
Life droops toward its sunset to be
drowned in the golden shadows.
Love must be called from its play
to drink sorrow and be borne to the
heaven of tears.
Brother, keep that in mind and
rejoice.
We hasten to gather our flowers lest
they are plundered by the passing
winds.
It quickens our blood and brightens
our eyes to snatch kisses that would
vanish if we delayed.
Our life is eager, our desires are keen,
for time tolls the bell of parting.
Brother, keep that in mind and
rejoice.
There is not time for us to clasp a
thing and crush it and fling it away to
the dust.
The hours trip rapidly away, hiding
their dreams in their skirts.
Our life is short; it yields but a
few days for love.
Were it for work and drudgery it
would be endlessly long.
Brother, keep that in mind and
rejoice.
Beauty is sweet to us, because she
dances to the same fleeting tune with
our lives.
Knowledge is precious to us, because
we shall never have time to
complete it.
All is done and finished in the eternal
Heaven.
But earth's flowers of illusion are
kept eternally fresh by death.
Brother, keep that in mind and
rejoice.

 

***

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