Gitanjali and Fruit-gathering . ^25 XXI I WILL meet one day the Life withinnie, the joy that hides in my Hfe, thoughtlie days perplex my path with theiridle dust. I have known it in glimpses, and itsfitful breath has come upon me, makingmy thoughts fragrant for a while. I will meet one day the Joy withoutme that dwells behind the screen oflight—and will stand in the overflow-ing solitude where all things are seenas by their creator. 126 FRUIT-GATHERING XXII This autumn morning is tired with ex-cess of light, and if your songs growfitful and languid give me your fluteawhile. I shall but play wi
Gitanjali and Fruit-gathering . ^25 XXI I WILL meet one day the Life withinnie, the joy that hides in my Hfe, thoughtlie days perplex my path with theiridle dust. I have known it in glimpses, and itsfitful breath has come upon me, makingmy thoughts fragrant for a while. I will meet one day the Joy withoutme that dwells behind the screen oflight—and will stand in the overflow-ing solitude where all things are seenas by their creator. 126 FRUIT-GATHERING XXII This autumn morning is tired with ex-cess of light, and if your songs growfitful and languid give me your fluteawhile. I shall but play with it as the whimtakes me,—now take it on my lap, nowtouch it with my lips, now keep it bymy side on the grass. But in the solemn evening stillnessI shall gather flowers, to deck it withwreaths, I shall fill it with fragrance; Ishall worship it with the lighted lamp. Then at night I shall come to youand give you back your flute. You will play on it the music of mid-night when the lonely crescent moonwanders among the Painlcd by Alxinindrunulh Tagore This autumn morning is tired with excess of light FRUIT-GATHERING 127 XXIII The poets mind floats and dances onthe waves of life amidst the voices ofwind and water. Now when the sun has set and thedarkened sky draws upon the sealike drooping lashes upon a weary eyeit is time to take away his pen, andlet his thoughts sink into the bottomof the deep amid the eternal secret ofthat silence. 128 FRUIT-GATHERING XXIV The night is dark and your slumberis deep in the hush of my being. Wake, O Pain of Love, for I knownot how to open the door, and I standoutside. The hours wait, the stars watch, thewind is still, the silence is heavy in myheart. Wake, Love, wake! brim my emptycup, and with a breath of song ruflOie thenight.
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