On the day when the lotus bloomed,
Alas, my mind was straying,
And I knew it not.
My basket was empty
And the flower remained unheeded.
Only now and again
A sadness fell upon me,
And I started up
From my dream and felt
A sweet trace of a sweet trace
Of a strange fragrance in the south wind.
That vague sweetness
Made my heart ache with longing
And it seemed to me
That it was the eager breath
Of the summer seeking for its completion.
I knew not then
That it was so near,
That it was mine,
And that this perfect sweetness
Had blossomed in the depth of my own heart.
Verse 20, Gitanjali
Rabindranath Tagore
Alas, my mind was straying,
And I knew it not.
My basket was empty
And the flower remained unheeded.
Only now and again
A sadness fell upon me,
And I started up
From my dream and felt
A sweet trace of a sweet trace
Of a strange fragrance in the south wind.
That vague sweetness
Made my heart ache with longing
And it seemed to me
That it was the eager breath
Of the summer seeking for its completion.
I knew not then
That it was so near,
That it was mine,
And that this perfect sweetness
Had blossomed in the depth of my own heart.
Verse 20, Gitanjali
Rabindranath Tagore
No comments:
Post a Comment