Friday, 30 March 2012

The Gardener XIX: You Walked - Rabindranath Tagore

You walked by the riverside path
with the full pitcher upon your hip.
Why did you swiftly turn your face
and peep at me through your fluttering
veil?

That gleaming look from the dark
came upon me like a breeze that sends
a shiver through the rippling water
and sweeps away to the shadowy
shore.

It came to me like the bird of the
evening that hurriedly flies across the
lampless room from the one open
window to the other, and disappears
in the night.
You are hidden as a star behind the
hills, and I am a passer-by upon the
road.

But why did you stop for a moment
and glance at my face through your
veil while you walked by the river-
side path with the full pitcher upon
your hip?

Rabindranath Tagore (1861 – 1941) India

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