Gitanjali 92

I know that the day will come when 

my sight of this earth shall be lost, and 

life will take its leave in silence, drawing 

the last curtain over my eyes.

   Yet stars will watch at night, and 

morning rise as before, and hours heave

like sea waves casting up pleasures 

and pains.

   When I think of this end of my 

moments, the barrier of the moments 

breaks and I see by the light of death 

thy world with its careless treasures. 

Rare is its lowliest seat, rare is its 

meanest of lives.

   Things that I longed for in vain and

things that I got-let them pass. Let

me but truly possess the things that I 

ever spurned and overlooked.

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