No more noisy, loud words from me-

such is my master's will. Henceforth

I deal in whispers. The speech of my 

heart will be carried on in murmurings

of a song.

   Men hasten to the King's market.

All the buyers and sellers are there. 

But I have my untimely leave in the 

middle of the day, in the thick of work.

   Let then the flowers come out in my 

garden, though it is not their time; 

and let the midday bees strike up their 

lazy hum.

   Full many an hour have I spent in 

the strife of the good and the evil, but

now it is the pleasure of my playmate

of the empty days to draw my heart on 

to him; and I know not why is this 

sudden call to what useless incon-

sequence!

From Gitanjali (Macmillan and Co., Limited, 1913) by Rabindranath Tagore. This poem is in the public domain.