The song that I came to sing remains unsung to this day. I have spent my days in stringing and in unstringing my instrument.
The time has not come true, the words have not been rightly set; only there is the agony of wishing in my heart.
The blossom has not opened; only the wind is sighing by. I have not seen his face, nor have I listened to his voice; only I have heard his gentle footsteps from the road before my house.
The livelong day has passed in spreading his seat on the floor; but the lamp has not been lit and I cannot ask him into my house.
I live in the hope of meeting with him; but this meeting is not yet.
By: Rabindranath Tagore
from Gitanjali
its teach my heart really.fantansic by tagore shaab
Comment by amit garg — May 22, 2008 @ 4:52 pm
fanantastic
Comment by amit garg — May 22, 2008 @ 4:53 pm
A beautiful but sad poem.
Comment by -michelle — May 25, 2008 @ 5:38 am
Many of us have these moments when we feel some emptiness in the heart. You have captured that.
Comment by Nyongesa B. Lemmy — May 28, 2008 @ 6:55 am