O Woman by Rabindranath Tagore

O woman, you are not merely the
handiwork of God, but also of men;
these are ever endowing you with
beauty from their hearts.
Poets are weaving for you a web
with threads of golden imagery;
painters are giving your form ever
new immortality.
The sea gives its pearls, the mines
their gold, the summer gardens their
flowers to deck you, to cover you, to
make you more precious.
The desire of men's hearts has shed
its glory over your youth.
You are one half woman and one
half dream.

by Rabindranath Tagore

Other poems by 'Rabindranath Tagore'

Stream Of Life

Strong Mercy

Superior

Sympathy

The Astronomer

The Banyan Tree

The Beginning

The Boat

The Chanpa Flower

The Child-Angel

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