The Pain

Pluck the little flower and take it,
Delay not!
I fear lest it droop and drop into the dust.

It may not find a place in thy garland,
But honor it with a touch of pain,
From thy hand and pluck it.
I fear lest the day end
Before I am aware,
An the time of offering go by.

Though its color be not deep
And its smell be faint,
Use this flower in thy service
And pluck it while there is time.

- Rabindranath Tagore, Verse 6, Gitanjali.