On many an idle day have I grieved over lost time (as Gitanjali)

le Rabindranath Tagore
(1861 - 1941)

An file féin a chuir Béarla air

On many an idle day have I grieved over lost time. But it is never lost, my lord. Thou hast taken every moment of my life in thine own hands.
Hidden in the heart of things thou art nourishing seeds into sprouts, buds into blossoms, and ripening flowers into fruitfulness.
I was tired and sleeping on my idle bed and imagined all work had ceased. In the morning I woke up and found my garden full with wonders of flowers.


Is iomaí lá díomhaoin nuair a chaoineas an t-am a cailleadh. Ach ní chailltear riamh é, a Thiarna. Tá gach nóiméad dem shaolsa tógtha agatsa i do dhá lámh.
I bhfolach i gcroí nithe, tá síolta á gcothú agat ina bpéaca, bachlóga ina mblátha, agus aibíonn bláthanna ina dtorthaí.
Bhí tuirse orm is mé i mo luí ar leaba dhíomhaoin agus samhlaíodh dom go raibh an saothar go léir thart. Dhúisíos ar maidin agus fuaireas romham garraí lán de bhláthanna na n-iontas.