Thieves apparently broke in at Rabindra Bhavan, which houses a museum where the Nobel Prize was on display. Besides that, there were numerous original documents which were also stolen.

The robbers broke open the glass case and escaped with the items. A lock of a glass case where the documents and the prize were secured were found broken.

They made away with several artefacts belonging to Tagore, including some gold medallions and rare paintings, police said.

"The stolen artefacts might also contain the Nobel Prize citation or the plaque," an official of Kolkata Police said.

Staff at Visvabharati University in Shantiniketan discovered the theft this morning.

University vice chancellor Sujit Basu is closeted with senior police officials over the robbery.

Forensic experts are already on the job. One of the main entrances to the university, Uttarayan Gate, has been shut.

"The police have cordoned off the entire area. They are not allowing in even the Viswa Bharati staff," the spokesman said, confirming that the plaque stolen was the original one.

Chief Minister Buddhadeb Bhattacharjee said that a CID team had been rushed to Viswa Bharati to conduct the investigation.

• KABIKAHINI, 1878 - A Poet's Tale
• SADHYA SANGEET, 1882 - Evening Songs
• PRABHAT SANGEET, 1883 - Morning Songs
• BAU-THAKURANIR HAT, 1883
• RAJASHI, 1887
• RAJA O RANI, 1889 - The King and the Queen / Devouring Love
• VISARGAN, 1890 - Sacrifice
• MANASI, 1890
• IUROPE-JATRIR DIARI, 1891, 1893
• VALMIKI PRATIBHA, 1893
• SONAR TARI, 1894 - The Golden Boat
• KHANIKA, 1900 - Moments
• KATHA, 1900
• KALPANA, 1900
• NAIVEDYA, 1901
• NASHTANIR, 1901 - The Broken Nest
• SHARAN, 1902
• BINODINI, 1902
• CHOCHER BALI, 1903 - Eyesore
• NAUKADUBI, 1905 - Haaksirikko
• KHEYA, 1906
• NAUKADUBI, 1906 - The Wreck
• GORA, 1907-09 - suom.
• SARADOTSAVA, 1908 - Autumn Festival
• GALPAGUCCHA, 1912 - A Bunch of Stories
• CHINNAPATRA, 1912
• VIDAY-ABHISAP, 1912 - The Curse at Farewell
• GITANJALI, 1912 - Song Offerings (new translation in 2000 by Joen Winter, publ. Anvil Press) - Uhrilauluja
• JIBAN SMRTI, 1912 - My Reminiscenes - Elämäni muistoja
, trans. by J. Hollo
• DAKGHAR, 1912 - Post Office
• The Crescent Moon, 1913
• Glimpses of Bengal Life, 1913
• The Hungry Stones and Other Stories, 1913
• CHITRA, 1914 - transl.
• GHITIMALAYA, 1914
• The King of the Dark Chamber, 1914
• The Post Office, 1914
• Sadhana, 1914
• GHARE-BAIRE, 1916 - The Home and the World - Koti ja maailma
• BALAK, 1916 - A Flight of Swans
• CHATURANGA, 1916 - transl.
• Fruit Gathering, 1916
• The Hungry Stones, 1916
• Stray Birds, 1916
• PERSONALITY, 1917 - Persoonallisuus
• The Cycle of Spring, 1917
• Sacrifice, and Other Plays, 1917
• My Reminiscene, 1917
• Nationalism, 1917
• Mashi and Other Stories, 1918
• Stories from Tagore, 1918
• PALATAKA, 1918
• JAPAN-JATRI, 1919 - A Visit to Japan
• Greater India, 1921
• The Fugitive, 1921
• Creative Unity, 1921
• LIPIKA, 1922
• MUKTADHARA, 1922 - trans.
• Poems, 1923
• Gora, 1924
• Letters from Abroad, 1924
• Red Oleander, 1924
• GRIHAPRABESH, 1925
• Broken Ties and Other Stories, 1925
• Rabindranath Tagore: Twenty-Two Poems, 1925
• RAKTA-KARABI, 1925 - Red Oleanders
• SADHANA, 1926 - suom.
• NATIR PUJA, 1926 - transl.
• Letters to a Friend, 1928
• SESHER KAVITA, 1929 - Farewell, My Friend
• MAHUA, 1929 - The Herald of Spring
• JATRI, 1929
• YAGAYOG, 1929
• The Religion of Man, 1930
• The Child, 1931
• RASHIAR CHITHI, 1931 - Letters from Russia
• PATRAPUT, 1932
• PUNASCHA, 1932
• Mahatmahi and the Depressed Humanity, 1932
• The Golden Boat, 1932
• Sheaves, Poems and Songs, 1932
• DUI BON, 1933 - Two Sisters
• CHANDALIKA, 1933 - transl.
• MALANCHA, 1934 - The Garden
• CHAR ADHYAYA, 1934 - Four Chapters
• BITHIKA, 1935
• SHESH SAPTAK, 1935
• PATRAPUT, 1936
• SYAMALI, 1936 - trans.
• Collected Poems and Plays, 1936
• KHAPCHARA, 1937
• SEMJUTI, 1938
• PRANTIK, 1938
• PRAHASINI, 1939
• PATHER SANCAY, 1939
• AKASPRADIP, 1939
• SYAMA, 1939
• NABAJATAK, 1940
• SHANAI, 1940
• CHELEBELA, 1940 - My Boyhood Days
• ROGSHAJYAY, 1940
• AROGYA, 1941
• JANMADINE, 1941
• GALPASALPA, 1941
• Last Poems, 1941
• The Parrots Training, 1944
• Rolland and Tagore, 1945
• Three Plays, 1950
• Crisis in Civilization, 1950
• Sheaves, 1951
• More Stories from Tagore, 1951
• A Tagore's Testament, 1955
• Our Universe, 1958
• The Runaway and Other Stories, 1959
• Wings of Death, 1960
• GITABITAN, 1960
• A Tagore Reader, 1961 (ed. by Amiya Chakravarty)
• Towards Universal Man, 1961
• On Art and Aesthetics, 1961
• BICITRA, 1961
• GALPAGUCCHA, 1960-62 (4 vols.)
• Boundless Sky, 1964
• The Housewarming, 1964
• RABINDRA-RACANABALI, 1964-1966 (27 vols.)
• Patraput, 1969
• Imperfect Encounter, 1972
• Later Poems, 1974
• The Housewarming, 1977
• Rabindranath Tagore: Selected Poems, 1985
• Rabindranath Tagore: Selected Short Stories, 1991 (trans. by William Radice)

In one salutation to thee, my God,

let all my senses spread out and touch this world at thy feet.

Like a rain-cloud of July

hung low with its burden of unshed showers

let all my mind bend down at thy door in one salutation to thee.

Let all my songs gather together their diverse strains into a single current

and flow to a sea of silence in one salutation to thee.

Like a flock of homesick cranes flying night and day

back to their mountain nests

let all my life take its voyage to its eternal home

I boasted among men that I had known you.

They see your pictures in all works of mine.

They come and ask me, `Who is he?'

I know not how to answer them. I say, `Indeed, I cannot tell.'

They blame me and they go away in scorn.

And you sit there smiling.

I put my tales of you into lasting songs.

The secret gushes out from my heart.

They come and ask me, `Tell me all your meanings.'

I know not how to answer them.

I say, `Ah, who knows what they mean!'

They smile and go away in utter scorn.

And you sit there smiling.

I dive down into the depth of the ocean of forms,

hoping to gain the perfect pearl of the formless.

No more sailing from harbor to harbor with this my weather-beaten boat.

The days are long passed when my sport was to be tossed on waves.

And now I am eager to die into the deathless.

Into the audience hall by the fathomless abyss

where swells up the music of toneless strings

I shall take this harp of my life.

I shall tune it to the notes of forever,

and when it has sobbed out its last utterance,

lay down my silent harp at the feet of the silent.

When I give up the helm

I know that the time has come for thee to take it.

What there is to do will be instantly done.

Vain is this struggle.

Then take away your hands

and silently put up with your defeat, my heart,

and think it your good fortune to sit perfectly still

where you are placed.

These my lamps are blown out at every little puff of wind,

and trying to light them I forget all else again and again.

But I shall be wise this time and wait in the dark,

spreading my mat on the floor;

and whenever it is thy pleasure, my lord,

come silently and take thy seat here.

When I go from hence

let this be my parting word,

that what I have seen is unsurpassable.

I have tasted of the hidden honey of this lotus

that expands on the ocean of light,

and thus am I blessed

---let this be my parting word.

In this playhouse of infinite forms

I have had my play

and here have I caught sight of him that is formless.

My whole body and my limbs

have thrilled with his touch who is beyond touch;

and if the end comes here, let it come

---let this be my parting word.

I was not aware of the moment

when I first crossed the threshold of this life.

What was the power that made me open out into this vast mystery

like a bud in the forest at midnight!

When in the morning I looked upon the light

I felt in a moment that I was no stranger in this world,

that the inscrutable without name and form

had taken me in its arms in the form of my own mother.

Even so, in death the same unknown will appear as ever known to me.

And because I love this life,

I know I shall love death as well.

The child cries out

when from the right breast the mother takes it away,

in the very next moment to find in the left one its consolation.

I have got my leave. Bid me farewell, my brothers!

I bow to you all and take my departure.

Here I give back the keys of my door

---and I give up all claims to my house.

I only ask for last kind words from you.

We were neighbors for long,

but I received more than I could give.

Now the day has dawned

and the lamp that lit my dark corner is out.

A summons has come and I am ready for my journey.

I know that the day will come

when my sight of this earth shall be lost,

and life will take its leave in silence,

drawing the last curtain over my eyes.

Yet stars will watch at night,

and morning rise as before,

and hours heave like sea waves casting up pleasures and pains.

When I think of this end of my moments,

the barrier of the moments breaks

and I see by the light of death

thy world with its careless treasures.

Rare is its lowliest seat,

rare is its meanest of lives.

Things that I longed for in vain

and things that I got

---let them pass.

Let me but truly possess

the things that I ever spurned

and overlooked.

O thou the last fulfilment of life,

Death, my death, come and whisper to me!

Day after day I have kept watch for thee;

for thee have I borne the joys and pangs of life.

All that I am, that I have, that I hope and all my love

have ever flowed towards thee in depth of secrecy.

One final glance from thine eyes

and my life will be ever thine own.

The flowers have been woven

and the garland is ready for the bridegroom.

After the wedding the bride shall leave her home

and meet her lord alone in the solitude of night.

No more noisy, loud words from me---such is my master's will.
Henceforth I deal in whispers.
The speech of my heart will be carried on in murmurings of a song.

Men hasten to the King's market. All the buyers and sellers are there.
But I have my untimely leave in the middle of the day, in the thick of work.

Let then the flowers come out in my garden, though it is not their time;
and let the midday bees strike up their lazy hum.

Full many an hour have I spent in the strife of the good and the evil,
but now it is the pleasure of my playmate of the empty days to draw my heart on to him;
and I know not why is this sudden call to what useless inconsequence!

In desperate hope I go and search for her
in all the corners of my room;
I find her not.

My house is small
and what once has gone from it can never be regained.

But infinite is thy mansion, my lord,
and seeking her I have to come to thy door.

I stand under the golden canopy of thine evening sky
and I lift my eager eyes to thy face.

I have come to the brink of eternity from which nothing can vanish
---no hope, no happiness, no vision of a face seen through tears.

Oh, dip my emptied life into that ocean,
plunge it into the deepest fullness.
Let me for once feel that lost sweet touch
in the allness of the universe.

Mother, I shall weave a chain of pearls for thy neck
with my tears of sorrow.

The stars have wrought their anklets of light to deck thy feet,
but mine will hang upon thy breast.

Wealth and fame come from thee
and it is for thee to give or to withhold them.
But this my sorrow is absolutely mine own,
and when I bring it to thee as my offering
thou rewardest me with thy grace.