Flute Music; What is this called Poetry?

In Rabindranath Tagore's Flute Music;

If the Kantababu's Sindhu-Baroya Raga on flute

Has power and magic of transforming Kinu,

 The milk man's alley to heaven,

Then the Haripada,

The clerk, need not runaway from his bride,

Need not stay late at Sealdah station to save the cost of light,

And need not pray to Ganesha, 

The god of success.

For 

He is as OK as the Lizard in his room

The hiked tram cost,

The depleted umbrella and cut pay, 

The stinking alley,

The moist and damp room.

These are nothing,

But a meaningless statement of a drunkard,

It's sweetening thing to see

A line of distinction between Akbar and Haripada vanish,

The royal parasol merge with torn umbrella, 

The rise of music above worldly is eternal.

Haripada need not suffer

From the "pangs of separation",

and need not evade the marriage,
For
A lady of his mind lingers in and out,
 All day long and night long,
Dressed in Dacca sari,
Vermillion on her forehead,
On the banks of Dhalesvari river,
Under the shade of tamal trees

But what is this called poetry?