To realize that death is an illusion, you either have to be very sophisticated or very simple. Tagore was both. I am awed by his use of language, pure crystals of wise innocence. Every word is personal, every word is universal. Those who met Tagore during his eighty years described him as one of the greatest souls of our age; Einstein considered him a sage. From what we learn in these poems, he certainly lived his own words. He kissed the infinite, he was not afraid to lose everything. And in this book, he allows us to approach death not with dusty words but with a silence that washes the soul. —From the Introduction by Deepak Chopra In this hauntingly beautiful volume, Deepak Chopra presents new English versions of poems by Bengali poet Rabindranath Tagore, a lifelong source of inspiration for Chopra and the first Asian to win the Nobel Prize for Literature. When Tagore writes, "Death, my death / Whisper to me! / For you alone have I kept watch day after day," romantic ecstasy surges through every word. For Tagore the soul was more real than any object, and he sang of death as a joyful voyage home to the eternity from which we sprang. In these poems we experience a dramatic alternative to the fearful Western view of death. Through the magic of Tagore's lyricism we begin to understand that by becoming familiar with death, and watching it grow closer, we can come to live fully in the present moment. As Tagore tells us so eloquently, "If you weep because the sun has gone out / Your tears may blind you to the stars."