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.