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.