This is an extract from The Rosicrucian #92 (May 2023).

When India’s great poet and philosopher Rabindranath Tagore (1861–1941) was still very young, his father insisted he drop his books and go up into the high Himalayas. He did so, and the sight of those lofty, snow-covered peaks gave the youth a new outlook on the world. He caught a vision that he cherished for the rest of his days. It was of a free world, where love and understanding counted for more than national boundaries. There, men and women would live like brothers and sisters, side by side, and scientists could pursue their studies in the service of people. There was no reason for distrust, since war had been outlawed by love and human fellowship.

Probably no-one loved peace and hated war more than Tagore. The time came when his name became a household word in his native country, and his poems were known to both rich and poor alike. His songs were sung in crowded city quarters as well as by travellers on far-off caravan trails. And tens of thousands were stirred by his dreams of world peace.

Nobel Peace Prize

In 1913 came Tagore’s crowning honour with the award of the Nobel Peace Prize in literature. It was the first time someone from Asia had been chosen, and the recognition of India’s great genius brought praise from all sides.

Among English-speaking readers, Tagore drew almost as enthusiastic a following as he did among his own people. The Irish poet William Butler Yeats wrote a preface to one of Tagore’s works in which he told of how marvellous had been the shock of the discovery of the noted Indian. When Yeats related this to a Bengali physician, the latter did not seem the least surprised. The doctor answered:

Let me think there is one among those stars that guides my life through the dark unknown.

Every day I read Rabindranath. One of his verses makes me forget all the annoyances of the world.

In 1916, Tagore made a memorable visit to America. Everywhere he travelled, he attracted wide notice. People who saw him could not soon forget the man with the gentle eyes who went about in the attire of his native country. He was such an impressive figure in his long brown robes, his patriarchal beard, and his iron-grey hair. When he smiled, his whole countenance seemed illuminated with his deep love for humanity.

On a visit to Japan in 1916, he made just as profound an impression on the public. On one occasion he was invited to speak to a young people’s group. The boys and girls were moved to admiration as they heard the courteous visitor make this delightful confession:

Do not be frightened of me or think that I am going to give you a long lecture. I know I look rather formidable with my grey beard and white hair and flowing Indian robe, and people who know me by my exterior make the absurd mistake that I am an old man, and give me a higher seat, and pay me deference by keeping at a distance from me.

But if I show you my heart, you will find it green and young..., perhaps younger than some of you who are standing before me. And you would find also that I am childish enough to believe in things which the grown-up people of the modern age, with their superior wisdom, have been ashamed to own. That is to say, I believe in an ideal life. I believe that in a little flower there is a living power hidden in its beauty which is more potent than a Maxim gun. I believe that in the bird’s notes Nature expresses herself with a force which is greater than that revealed in the deafening roar of the cannonade.

These are surprising and challenging words. Nothing could better reveal what sort of a thinker and poet Tagore really was. In an age when all the great nations were building up powerful armaments, he dared to dream of a world of human fraternity. Was it nothing but a poet’s crazy dream? Perhaps there are high-up statesmen who would have us believe so, but thoughtful persons know better. If beauty and goodness are to last, the great Bengali poet’s vision must come true. The walls that creeping suspicion have built between nations will have to come down.

Eighty-eight years have passed since Tagore passed away, but his voice is with us still in his beautiful poetry, reminding us of the special message of peace he carried with him throughout his life. With the awful rise in world tensions that is occurring today, it would be well for more world leaders to think less about hypersonic weapons and more about human kindness and tolerance for the ways and beliefs of people other than themselves.

Many of his verses prove that he identified himself with the** ‘little people’** of the world. He frequently spoke of nature and of things of the soul. A flower, a mountain, a cloud—all suggest the Creator. It is doubtful if ever a poet told of the love of God with greater simplicity. Study these samples of his thought, and then judge for yourself:

• Let me think there is One among those stars that guides my life through the dark unknown.

• Wrong cannot afford defeat, but Right can.

• God waits for us to regain our childhood in wisdom.

• The noise of the moment scoffs at the music of the Eternal.

• Those who have everything but You, my God, laugh at those who have nothing but Your Self.

• God is ashamed when the prosperous boast of His special favour.

• God grows weary of great kingdoms but never of little flowers.