Laurent Mignon (University of Oxford) “I wonder whether my sympathy [for Tagore] is caused by my interest for India and for the Indian soul. Or is it because Tagore is an Oriental?” asked Fethi Tevetoğlu (1916-1989) in his short 1938 biography of Rabindranath Tagore, the first monograph of its kind in Turkey. In his introduction, Tevetoğlu, a medical doctor and a literary dilettante with ultra-nationalist sympathies, reminiscing his teenage days when a teacher introduced him to Tagore’s world, wondered about the reasons that had attracted him to the prose and poetry of the great Bengali writer. He then brushed away those questions and concluded: “These cannot be the reasons; these are nothing compared to Tagore’s songs which speak to the soul. Tagore’s every page is delightful. Endless beauty and the eternal poetry that he conveys are the things that bewitch [the reader].”1 Written at a time when Tagore became increasingly popular in the republic of Turkey, Tevetoğlu’s attempt at making sense of his passion proposes some interesting lines of inquiry to study and analyze the long love-story between Tagore and his Turkish readers. Interest in India, oriental solidarity and the sheer power of Tagore’s writings would become some re-occurring arguments in the articles and essays by Tagore’s Turkish translators and critics.
Discovering India Interest for India in the Turkish speaking realms of the Ottoman Empire had not started with Tagore. Travellers, writers and later scholars had turned their attention to the Indian subcontinent in the last quarter of the nineteenth century. Though diplomatic relations between the Ottoman Empire and the Islamic states of India went back to the fifteenth century, it was only in the nineteenth century that India and its overwhelmingly non-Islamic cultures became an object of curiosity for Ottoman Turkish intellectuals. Works such as al-Bîrûnî’s eleventh century Indica were not unknown to the Ottoman intelligentsia, yet Western scholarship and writings on India would have a greater impact on the perception of Indian cultures and religions at the turn of the century. Not unlike their Western European peers, Ottoman Turks writing on India were particularly keen on the exotic, often orientalizating Indian realities, transforming, in Edward Said’s terms, “instances of a civilization into ideal bearers of its values, ideas and positions”.2 There were authors, however, who tried to avoid the pitfalls of exoticization and conceptualized, contextualized and, sometimes, even relativized Indian alterity. Ahmed Midhat Efendi (1844-1912), a prolific novelist and influential publisher, maintained that polyandry in India, perhaps a reference to the Mahabharata, was as estranging a practice for Ottoman Muslims as Islamic polygamy was for Western Christians.3 Strangeness was in the eye of the beholder. In Duhter-i Hindû (The Indian Girl, 1876), the first of several plays which explored the impact of colonialism in India, Abdülhak Hamid (1851-1937), an innovative poet and playwright, referred to the practice of sati By focusing on a ruthless British officer who supported the tradition of widow-burning, the play moved beyond the basic dichotomy between a barbaric East and an enlightened West which often shaped colonial writing. Hamid, nonetheless, admitted having mostly relied on French sources when writing his first play.4 Rare were the books written by Ottoman Turkish intellectuals which engaged with Indian religions such as Şemseddin Sami’s (1850-1904) Esâtir (Mythology, 1878) which presented the belief systems of the subcontinent beside other polytheistic religions, depending, here too, on Western popular and scholarly literature. Beside western sources, Ottoman literati could also rely on Ottoman travelogues such as Ahmed Hamdi Şirvani’s (1831-1890) Hindistan ve Svat ve Afganistan Seyahatnamesi (A Travelogue to India, Swat and Afghanistan, 1883) and Selanikli Tevfik’s Musavver Hindistan Seyahatnamesi (Illustrated India Travelogue, 1900), a rather odd travelogue as the author admittedly never went to the subcontinent.5 At a much later date Halide Edib Adıvar (1884-1969), another ground-breaking Turkish author, would have first-hand experience of India as she lectured at the Jamia Millia Islamia in January-February 1935 and published an English-language account of her observations. She claimed that Hamid’s plays had introduced her to India.6 Her book Inside India was published in 1937, one year after the establishment of the first Indology department in Turkey by Walter Ruben (1899-1982), at the Faculty of Languages and History of Ankara University. Adıvar, a persona-non-grata in her homeland because of her outspoken criticism of Mustafa Kemal’s authoritarian ways, had published her work in English and the impact of her writings in Turkey was limited accordingly. It would be the works on Indian literature by the sociologist and thinker Cemil Meriç (1916-1987), namely Hint Edebiyatı (Indian Literature, 1964) and its revised and expanded new edition Bir Dünyanın Eşiğinde (On the Brink of a World, 1976), as well as numerous articles on Indian literatures and spiritualities by the poet Asaf Hâlet Çelebi (1907-1958), that would familiarize a growing number of Turkish readers with India and its literary culture. Just like their predecessors Meriç and Çelebi relied almost exclusively on Western sources.
Translating Tagore There is no doubt that the translations of Tagore’s works into Turkish was the main factor that contributed to the dissemination of Indian culture and literature in Turkey. The award of the Nobel Prize in 1913, however, had only attracted very limited attention, apart from references to Tagore’s being the first non-Western writer to be crowned. The prestigious literary and cultural periodical Servet-i Fünûn featured a two-page illustrated article “Şair-i Hindu Tagore (Nobel Ödülü)” (The Hindu Poet Tagore (Nobel Prize)) giving an overview of Tagore’s career on 25 December 1913. Though the Nobel Prize and Tagore’s recognition in the West had been preconditions for his discovery in Turkey, it was only in the late thirties and forties that an increase in translations and publications was witnessed. Some of his shorter pieces had been published in periodicals, but only two of his works circulated in book-form in the Ottoman script before the alphabet change of 1928, namely the novel The Home and the World (1928), translated by Bedri Tahir [Şaman] and reedited in transliteration in 1942, and a Turkish translation of the Crescent Moon (1928), published by Arayiş H. Sami and Kenan Halet.
In a few years’ time Tagore would become the best known and most read non-Western contemporary author in Turkey. This was truly remarkable since the Turkish publishing world experienced major difficulties after the alphabet change and was badly hit by the economic hardships affecting the young Turkish republic. From the 1930s to the end of the 1940s the surge in translations was chaotic as different translations of the same work appeared within a few years, such as two versions of the Gardener in 1938, one by Orhan Burian (1914-1953), the other by İbrahim Hoyi (1908-1984) who reissued his translations in 1941 and 1944. A third translation was published by Mehmet Şükrü Erden in 1939. Two translations of the Gitanjali were published within one year -Bülent Ecevit’s (1925-2006) in 1941 and İbrahim Hoyi’s in 1942. By the end of the 1940s Turkish readers could read the short story The Conclusion (renamed Mrinmaji after the name of its major female protagonist), The Gardener, Fruit Gathering, The Crescent Moon, Gitanjali, The Post-Office, The Fugitive, Stray Birds, The Home and the World , Chitra, Lover’s Gift , The Religion of the Poet and The Cycle of Spring in book-form and thus become acquainted with a significant sample of the Tagorean canon. Tagore’s works even became victims of intellectual snobbism. Asked about Tagore and universalism in literature in an interview in 1946, Çelebi reprimanded his interlocutor for mentioning an author who “had become so very banal”.7 The poet, who was a bit of an elitist, was referring to the popularity of Tagore’s works in the early forties, something he quite obviously frowned upon. Renewed interest in Tagore translations would again be witnessed in the 1960s after the liberalization in the publishing world following the 1960 military coup and the centenary of Tagore’s birth in 1961 and then since the 1990s, when rising interest in alternative spiritualities and non-Abrahamic religions have also contributed to a rediscovery of Tagore.
Back in the thirties and forties at a time when the Turkish state was actively promoting Western culture, Tagore’s popularity among Turkey’s reading classes was truly out of the ordinary. Whether Tagore’s status in the Turkish publishing world was really a challenge to cultural euro- centrism in Turkey is questionable however, since interest in Tagore developed years after his recognition in the West. The translations were based exclusively on English, French and German versions. Translators of his poetry, in particular, as well as critics considered this to be problematic. They noted the difficulty of rendering accurately the rhythms and musicality of Tagore’s Bengali verses – a point they probably made by basing themselves, yet again, on Western testimonies as Turks exposed to recitals of Tagore poetry were few. A notable exception was Halide Edip Adıvar who was “held spellbound” by the Bengali singer Nuri-Jihan’s recitation of Tagore songs at a concert in Kolkata.8
Among Tagore’s earliest translators were some outstanding figures of Turkish cultural and political life. His main translator was İbrahim Hoyi, a literary journalist and active translator who dedicated much of his life to the promotion of Tagore’s works. For Hoyi, translating Tagore was a labour of love. In a short introduction to his translation of the Fruit-Gathering he spoke of Tagore as “a genius poet who had given his name to his era.”9 His translations were generally well received. He collaborated with the Indian authorities and published booklets on Tagore that were edited by the Indian Information Office (Hindistan Haberler Servisi). Rasih Güven, a leading Turkish Indologist, stated that Hoyi’s were the most successful, among the many that were published.10 He is undeniably the translator who has most contributed to the dissemination of Tagore’s works in Turkey by translating The Gardener (1938), Fruit Gathering (1940), The Crescent Moon (1941), and Gitanjali (1942).
Though Hoyi’s translations were reedited several times, it is the young Bülent Ecevit’s Turkish renderings that would retrospectively attract most attention. This had to do with the way his political career would evolve and lead him to the office of Prime Minister in Turkey. Nonetheless Ecevit was a poet in his own right and his translations of the Gitanjali (1941)and Stray Birds (1943) had an undeniable literary value, which explains their popularity even today. During his official visit in India in 2000, Prime Minister Ecevit was awarded an honorary doctorate by Visva-Bharati University for his contribution to the promotion of Indian literature. Ecevit fondly remembered how he had been introduced to Tagore by his father. It was partly due to his desire to read Tagore in the original – even though his own translations were based on the English versions – that he went on to study Bengali and Sanskrit at the School of Oriental and African Studies in London.11 The introduction that the future statesman wrote for Stray Birds revealed his familiarity with Tagore’s works. Heemphasized, in particular, the humanist dimension of this collection which, he argued, made it different from the mystical poetry rendered into Turkish by earlier translators. 12 Although he translated only one work by Tagore, The Gardener (1938), Orhan Burian, an influential critic and professor of English literature at Ankara University, too, deserves a mention among Tagore’s foremost translators, as he played an important role in the promotion and translation of English language literature in Turkey and modern Turkish literature in the English-speaking world.
Notwithstanding his Nobel Prize, had he not been promoted in Europe by the likes of William Butler Yeats and André Gide, it is highly unlikely that Tagore’s voice would have been heard by the Turkish intelligentsia. Local Turkish conjectures did also play a significant role in the continuous interest for Tagore. From a political point of view, support for India’s independence struggle in the newly independent Turkish republic and Tagore’s apparent interest for the Kemalist experiment in Turkey facilitated his introduction into the country. Tagore’s positive assessment of the changes he witnessed during a short stay in 1926 when his boat was docked for two days in Istanbul was widely reported in the press. In an article entitled “Rabindranath Tagore and the Turkish Movements” (Rabindranath Tagore ve Türk Hareketleri) published in the May 1930 issue of the Hayat periodical, the anonymous author reported that Tagore addressed a letter to Mustafa Kemal Atatürk in order to obtain books in Turkish for Visva-Bharati. His wish was granted. Tagore also wrote a letter to Celal Nuri İleri (1981-1938), a nationalist intellectual close to the Kemalist regime, in which he expressed his admiration for the Turkish revolution. According to the journalist, Gyula Germanus, the Hungarian Orientalist who would later teach at the college, might have influenced Tagore.13 Tagore’s take on nationalism, his reflections on the East-West question and his mysticism were themes that particularly attracted the Turkish intelligentsia’s attention as they were also hotly debated in the Republic at the time. In a country where nationalism was considered as one of the founding principles of the new state and the independence war its founding event, Tagore’s critical patriotism during the Indian independence struggle and his opposition to Gandhi was considered disconcerting, but it was something that some intellectuals, such as Cemil Meriç, a conservative cultural critic and thinker, chose to engage with. In his monograph on Indian literature, Meriç stressed the uneasy relationship between Tagore and Indian nationalism, as the Bengali poet was “favourable to the merging of East and West and the solidarity between nations.”14 This conflict had already interested earlier Turkish critics.15 Meriç maintained that Tagore’s philosophy could simply not fit into the narrow nationalism of his contemporaries, but that he remained quite conscious of the dangers represented by Western encroachment in Asia.16 Tagore’s discourse on the East-West divide was of particular interest in this discussion, as westernization in various guises had been on the agenda of the reformist intellectuals and ruling elite since the early nineteenth century. Some, such as Peyami Safa (1899-1961), a not untalented novelist and right-wing pundit, with a particular fondness for namedropping, questioned Tagore’s opposition between Asian spirituality and western materialism, quoting the Italian historian Guglielmo Ferrero (1871-1942), that this struggle existed within the West itself.17 Meriç, on the other hand, was more favourably inclined to forgive Tagore’s misconceptions, considering him more of a visionary than a theoretician or historian of ideas. He defined him as a bridge between East and West and opposed “Tagore’s dream” to “Gandhi’s realism”. According to Meriç, Tagore was “peace, bliss and poetry.” 18 Interest in Tagore’s works was not focused exclusively on his ideas. From a literary point of view the early Tagore’s exploration of the Indian countryside in his fiction was attractive for authors struggling to make Anatolia the focus of their works, as recommended by the advocates of nationalist literature. The spiritual dimension of some of his parables and of his poetry attracted a different crowd. At a time when Sufi brotherhoods and expressions of religiosity were banned from the public sphere, celebrating Tagore’s spirituality could be a way to challenge the secularization of the ruling class. Tagore’s poetry also introduced those who were uneasy with both positivism and Islam’s response to spiritual cravings to alternative forms of spirituality.
Conservative writers tended to “Islamize” Tagore’s spirituality and glossed over elements of his mysticism that would have invalidated such a reading. Meriç put the emphasis on Tagore as a seeker of “the unity at the source of the multiplicity” thus making him fit into a framework of Islamic mysticism. Publishing houses with a strong Islamic identity also integrated Tagore into an Islamic discourse, as witnessed in the marketing of Tagore translations by the national-conservative Dergâh publishing house. In a foreword to an undated re-edition of the Gitanjali, translated by Cengiz Durkan19, the publishing house suggests that they have published the work in order to counter the promotion of westernization in the cultural sphere that led to “Turkey’s estrangement from its essential thought” and ignorance towards non-Western civilizations.20 On the back cover of this edition, Tagore is made to fit the publisher’s own religious nationalist outlook by being described as a “promoter of the nationalist movement” who in his works “mainly explored the problem of the existence of God”, a programme to which the publishers subscribed.
Tagore’s spirituality and quest for unity, however, also attracted writers who chose to engage with and cherish his alterity. Rather than appropriating and Islamicizing him, they put the Bengali poet’s non-Abrahamic spiritual heritage to the fore. The poet Asaf Halet Çelebi is a case in point. Çelebi, himself a neo-mystical poet whose works were strongly influenced by surrealism, distinguished between Tagore’s and his own understanding of nirvana: “My conception of nirvana is different from the Buddhist and from Tagore’s nirvanas: Even when reaching the peak of felicity, the nirvana, I remain restless and perturbed. The balance I reach there is an uneasy one as there is still anguish in the most secret corners of my soul." 21 This kind of critical dialogue between a Turkish poet and Tagore was, however, exceptional.
Reading Tagore Interestingly, very little scholarly work has been produced about Tagore in Turkish.This is most probably because his intellectual output challenges linguistic, generic and disciplinary boundaries and thus does not easily fit into the well-defined categories of Turkish academia which is rarely open to interdisciplinary and comparative research. Despite his popularity, only a few monographs were written on him. Fethi Tevetoğlu’s Tagore: Hayatı ve Eserleri (Tagore: Life and Works, 1938)22, a 104-page book, was devised as an introductory text to a multi-volume edition of Tagore’s works. It consisted of three chapters: a biography, a section on Tagore’s links to Turkey23 and a study of his works displaying large excerpts. Tevetoğlu’s analysis largely relied on the studies by Heinrich Meyer-Benfey, André Gide and Henry de Zogheb. However some of the issues that he chose to emphasize were revealing of his own concerns and of the socio-political and cultural climate he was working in.
At a time when debates were still raging on the need to develop a “literature that spoke of the homeland” which would engage with Anatolian realities, Tevetoğlu stressed that novels such as The Home and the World and Gora were politically engaged texts where the author took on important societal questions. The short stories were of particular interest since they were most successful in conveying Indian realities.24 Tagore was a possible model for young Turkish authors. At a time Turkey’s modern literature was experiencing labour pains, the author maintained that “being acquainted with personalities such as Tagore would play an important role in its development.”25 His own essentialist worldview, his belief that the greatness of Tagore’s poetry “could only be truly conceived by an Indian” led him to use the concept of “artless art” in order to stress that it was the essence of Tagore’s works that reached the reader in translation, while form and language got lost.26Quoting large excerpts from Gide’s introduction to the Gitanjali, Tevetoğlu celebrated Tagore’s poetry.
There is no doubt that Tevetoğlu believed in the need for greater intercourse with eastern literatures and authors, thus challenging the exclusivist proponents of literary westernization. It is deeply ironic but also very sad that, while stressing the need for a greater knowledge of Indian literature, he himself remained so closely dependent on Western scholarship and translation. Though he chose not to give any details, he suggested that earlier translations of Tagore’s works had been unsatisfactory and he described his own methodology and sources as a translator. His translations were based on the German translations by Hans Effenberger, Annemarie von Puttkamer and Marie Luise Gothein as well as on André Gide’s French translations. Knowing neither Bengali, nor English, he had his own translations checked by a linguist who compared their accuracy to Tagore’s own English translations.27 Tevetoğlu was conscious that misconceptions about Indian religions and polytheism could harm the reception of Tagore’s works in an Islamic country, so he put particular emphasis on the monotheism of the "Bramho Shômaj", though acknowledging Christian influences,28 and quoted Gide that polytheism in Gitanjali was exceptional and was actually “unreal and superficial”.29 Whether Tevetoğlu himself was so much disturbed by polytheistic and pantheistic belief systems is open to debate, as he went as far as comparing Tagore to God, an abomination from an Islamic point of view: “The greatness of Tagore lies in his ability to create beauty and perfection out of plainness and simplicity. That is similar to God’s creating his great work – man – from mud, as retold in the books of the religions.”30 Twenty-three years later, in 1961, Ülkü Tamer, one of the leading poets of the modernist İkinci Yeni movement published a small anthology of Tagore’s work, preceded by a translation of William Butler Yeats’ famous essay “For Tagore”.31 Though Tamer’s own short introduction focused exclusively on biographical details, the book, published by the influential liberal publisher Varlık arguably played a role in rekindling interest in Tagore. Love for the Tagores was in the family. Tamer’s wife, Tomris, a short-story writer and acclaimed translator in her own right, started her literary career with the publication of her translation of Caramel Doll, by Abanindranath Tagore,in Varlık magazine in 1962.
In 1971 Rasih Güven published Rabindranath Tagore ve Ateş Böcekleri, a work that consisted of two parts – a study of Tagore as a poet, a philosopher and an educator, followed by a translation of The Fireflies.32Güven is the only writer who can really be considered as Tagore scholar in Turkey. He studied Indian philosophy and Sanskrit at Visva-Bharati with an Indian government scholarship in 1950. After gaining his BA, he went on to obtain an MA in philosophy in December 1953, the first MA in philosophy granted by the University. He met Tagore’s relatives during his stay and kept in touch after leaving to pursue doctoral research at the University of Benares.33 In his introduction, Güven regretted the fact that Tagore was only known in Turkey as a poet and writer, and that his achievements in other fields, including drama, music and education, had been overlooked.34 Giving large excerpts from his poems, Güven provided a general overview of his lyrical poetry, putting a particular emphasis, unseen among other Tagore readers, on the western influences on his poetry – romanticism and Bergsonism. The latter point was made in the context of his discussion of Balākā. Though outmoded by the early seventies, Bergson’s philosophy had had an impact on the conservative Turkish intelligentsia in earlier decades. Güven’s statement that Tagore questioned Bergson’s idea of a perpetual becoming without a final aim35 was an invitation to read Tagore as a philosopher engaging with Western philosophy, who could make meaningful contributions to intellectual debates in Turkey. For Güven, it was obvious that Tagore the poet should not be distinguished from Tagore the philosopher. He gave information on Tagore’s philosophical essays, most of which were unknown in Turkey. Interestingly, while other authors suggested the compatibility of Tagore’s spiritual leanings with Islamic mysticism, Güven emphasized Christian influences on the Bengali poet and thinker. He was conscious of the impact of Brahmo Samaj beliefs on the young Tagore, but he put particular emphasis on Tagore’s conception of a personalized God being close to Christianity.36 Noting that Tagore had discussed the similarities between Buddhism and Christianity, and certain aspects of Vaishnavism and early Christian beliefs, he argued that “Tagore’s romanticism is Christian in spirit”37, an argument not unknown to Tagore scholars in the West, but which in the Turkish context, always gripped by fear of Christian missionary activities, was a daring statement which could damage the poet’s reputation. The scholar also maintained the idea that the unity of God, man and nature were central in Tagore’s thought, discussing how Tagore constructed ontological distinctions between God and man (18-19). In the final part of his study Güven gave an overview of the genesis of Visva-Bharati and of its history, a story that had not yet been told in Turkey.38 Güven’s book, though unreferenced, contributed to a more holistic image of Tagore in Turkey, going beyond the often trite debates on nationalism and religion, symbolized by the obituaries which had been written at the time of the poet’s death.39 When Güven’s book was reedited by the Ministry of Culture in 2000, it appeared in a context of renewed interest in the works of Tagore that continues up to today. The internet has undoubtedly contributed to the rediscovery of the Bengali poet. Popular poetry websites as well as obscure webzines often showcase unreferenced translations of his poems and poetic prose thus reaching younger generations of readers who would otherwise have remained unaware of his works. The publishing world’s interest in Tagore too has been rekindled in recent years. New editions of the now classical translations of İbrahim Hoyi and Bülent Ecevit are to be found on booksellers’ shelves side by side with new translations, some of which by major figures of contemporary Turkish literature such as Tarık Dursun K, a novelist and short-story writer. This recent trend has contributed to a rediscovery of Tagore’s works and the variety of publishing houses involved, ranging from conservative Islamic to left-wing publishers, make Tagore a rather unique case of a figure appropriated by the whole intellectual and political spectrum. Though one cannot escape the feeling that, among Islamists and socialists, he was sometimes and still is show-cased as a token non-Westerner to emphasize their anti-imperialist credentials, he remains a much-read, much appreciated author for what he truly was. In Rasih Güven’s words “one of the greatest poets of the twentieth century” who also has a “central position in the history of modern Turkish literary translations”. 40 Bibliography
1 Atsızayoldaş, Tagore, 9. M[engüç] Atsızayoldaş was one of several pseudonyms used by Tevetoğlu.
2 Said, Orientalism, 252.
3 Herzog and Motika, “Orientalism ‘alla turca’”, 145, 150.
4 Tarhan, Tiyatroları 3, 159.
5 Herzog and Motika, “Orientalism ‘alla turca’”, 163.
6 Enginün, “Duhter-Hindû”, 18.
7 Çelebi, Bütün Yazıları, 479.
8 Edib, Inside India, 137.
9 Hoyi, “Önsöz”, 8.
10 Güven, “Bengal Edebiyatı ve Baüller”, 144.
11 Mengü, “Tagore ile Tanışma”.
12 Ecevit, “Önsöz”, 5-6.
13 Atsızayoldaş, Tagore, 31-33. This, however, is unlikely since Tagore may only have briefly met Germanus on 30 October, a few weeks before his stopover in Istanbul, at a one-hour-long, crowded reception of the Hungarian PEN Club, of which Germanus was the secretary-general. See Bangha, Hungry Tiger, 148.
14 Meriç, Bir Dünyanın Eşiğinde, 276.
15 Such as Atsızayoldaş, Tagore, 26-27.
16 Meriç, Bir Dünyanın Eşiğinde, 277.
17 Safa, Doğu Batı Sentezi, 42.
18 Meriç, “Tagor” in Bu Ülke, 245.
19 The book had originally been published by the nationalist Islamic Hareket publishers in 1971.
20 Dergâh Yayınları, “Sunuş” in Tagore, Gitanjali, 3-4.
21 Çelebi, Bütün Yazıları, 174-5.
22 The book was reedited in 1939.
23 This short section mainly consists of the above mentioned article entitled “Rabindranath Tagore and the Turkish Movements” and published in the May 1930 issue of the Hayat periodical.
24 Atsızayoldaş, Tagore,, 48-58.
25 Atsızayoldaş, Tagore, 12.
26 Atsızayoldaş, Tagore, 43-45.
27 Atsızayoldaş, Tagore, 10-12.
28 Atsızayoldaş, Tagore, 14.
29 Atsızayoldaş, Tagore, 84.
30 Atsızayoldaş, Tagore, 42.
31 Tamer, Tagore. The book was re-edited in 2001 by Yapı Kredi Yayınları.
32 Güven, Rabindranath Tagore ve Ateş Böcekleri.
33 Güven, Rabindranath Tagore, 1.
34 Güven, Rabindranath Tagore, 2.
35 Güven, Rabindranath Tagore, 5.
36 Güven, Rabindranath Tagore, 16.
37 Güven, Rabindranath Tagore, 16.
38 Güven, Rabindranath Tagore, 26.
39Cumhuriyet newspaper, for instance, hadput the emphasis on his poetry being “mystical and patriotic”. Anon, “Meşhur Hind Şairi Tagor Öldü”, 3.