Quotes About Nature

If you would be busy and fill your pitcher, come, O come to my lake. The water will cling round your feet and babble its secret. The shadow of the coming rain is on the sands, and the clouds hang low upon the blue lines of the trees like the heavy hair above your eyebrows. I know well the rhythm of your steps, they are beating in my heart. Come, O come to my lake, if you must fill your pitcher.

The blue of the sky longs for the earth's green; the wind between them sighs, "Alas." Day's pain, muffled by its own glare, burns among stars in the night.

Let those who are snake-charmers play with snakes; if harm comes to them, they are prepared for it. But these boys are so innocent, all the world is ready with its blessing to protect them. They play with a snake not knowing its nature, and when we see them smilingly, trustfully, putting their hands within reach of its fangs, then we understand how terribly dangerous the snake is.

A mere knowledge of things can be had in a short enough time, but their spirit can only be acquired by centuries of training and self-control. Dominating nature from outside is a much simpler thing than making her your own in love's delight, which is a work of true genius. Your race has shown that genius, not by acquirements, but by creations; not by display of things, but by manifestation of its own inner being.

The one who plants a tree knowing he may never sit in its shade has learnt a little about life.

Stand before my eyes, and let thy glance touch my songs into a flame. Stand among thy stars and let me find kindled in their lights my own fir of worship. The earth is waiting at the world's wayside; Stand upon the green mantle she has flung upon thy path; and let me feel in her grass and meadow flowers the spread of my own salutation. Stand in my lonely evening where my heart watches alone; fill her cup of solitude, and let me feel in me the infinity of thy love.

The man, whose acquaintance with the world does not lead him deeper than science leads him, will never understand what it is that the man with the spiritual vision finds in these natural phenomena. The water does not merely cleanse his limbs, but it purifies his heart; for it touches his soul. The earth does not merely hold his body, but it gladdens his mind; for its contact is more than a physical contact - it is a living presence.

The earth, water and light, fruits and flowers, to her were not merely physical phenomena to be turned to use and then left aside. They were necessary to her in the attainment of her ideal of perfection, as every note is necessary to the completeness of the symphony.

WE, the rustling leaves, have a voice that answers the storms, but who are you so silent?" "I am a mere flower.

The raindrop whispered to the jasmine, "Keep me in your heart for ever." The jasmine sighed, "Alas," and dropped to the ground.

Let your life lightly dance on the edges of Time like dew on the tip of a leaf. -Rabindranath Tagore

But here Nature fulfilled her want of speech and spoke for her. The murmur of the brook, the voice of the village folk, the songs of the boatmen, the crying of the birds and rustle of trees mingled and were one with the trembling of her heart. They became one vast wave of sound which beat upon her restless soul.

catastrophes of nature whose traces are soon forgotten.

He wanted to go out into the open country and fill his lungs with fresh air.

O that I were stored with a secret, like unshed rain in summer clouds — a secret, folded up in silence, that I could wander away with. O that I had someone to whisper to, where slow waters lap under trees that doze in the sun. The hush this evening seems to expect a footfall, and you ask me for the cause of my tears. I cannot give a reason why I weep, for that is a secret still withheld from me.

O bosque seria muito triste se só cantassem os pássaros que cantam melhor.

But here Nature fulfilled her want of speech and spoke fr her. The murmur of the brook, the voice of the village folk, the songs of the boatmen, the crying of the bird and the rustle of the trees mingled and were one with the trembling of her heart. They became one vast wave of sound which beat upon her restless soul. This murmur and movement of Nature were dumb girl's language; that speech of the dark eyes, which the long lushes shaded, was the language of the world about her.

My songs are like bees; they follow through the air some fragrant trace — some memory — of you, to hum around your shyness, eager for its hidden store. When the freshness of dawn droops in the sun, when in the noon the air hangs low with heaviness and the forest is silent, my songs return home, their languid wings dusted with gold.

20 Día tras día él llega y se va. Ve y dale esta flor de mi pelo, amigo. Si te pregunta quién se la envía, no se lo digas, te lo ruego, pues si viene, es para volverse a ir. Está sentado bajo un árbol, en el suelo. Prepárale un lecho de pétalos y hojas, amigo. Sus ojos están tristes y su mirada pesa en mi corazón. Nunca dice qué piensa, sólo viene y se va.

he has his responsibilities to the higher faculties of his nature, by ignoring which he may achieve success

yet I also yearn for a little sheltered nook; like a bird with its tiny nest for a dwelling, and the vast sky for flight.

At the onset of the rains, crops that have been shrivelled and yellowed by drought suddenly show a spurt in growth, shedding the effects of prolonged undernourishment. Casting off their feeble, drooping air, they raise their bright, shining heads unabashedly and confidently to claim their space amidst the fields of grain. So it was with Asha.

THESE little thoughts are the rustle of leaves; they have their whisper of joy in my mind.

My soul is alight with your infinitude of stars. Your world has broken upon me like a flood. The flowers of your garden blossom in my body. The joy of life that is everywhere burns like an incense in my heart. And the breath of all things plays on my life as on a pipe of reeds.