Gitanjali 79

If it is not my portion to meet thee in
this my life then let me ever feel that
I have missed thy sight––let me not
forget for a moment, let me carry the
pangs of this sorrow in my dreams and
in my wakeful hours.
    As my days pass in the crowded
market of this world and my hands
grow full with the daily profits, let me
ever feel that I have gained nothing––
let me not forget for a moment, let me
carry the pangs of this sorrow in my
dreams and in my wakeful hours.
    When I sit by the roadside, tired
and panting, when I spread my bed low
in the dust, let me ever feel that the
long journey is still before me––let me
not forget for a moment, let me carry
the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams
and in my wakeful hours.
    When my rooms have been decked
out and the flutes sound and the laugh-
ter there is loud, let me ever feel that I
have not invited thee to my house––
let me not forget for a moment, let me
carry the pangs of this sorrow in my
dreams and in my wakeful hours.