In the Light

^{translated from the Bengali by Lilian M. Whitehouse}

       We are indeed children of Light. What an endless mart goes on in the Light. In the Light is our sleeping and waking, the play of our life and death. 
       Beneath one great canopy, in the ray of one great sun, slowly, very slowly, burn the unnumbered lamps of life. 
       In the midst of this unending Light I lose myself; amidst this intolerable radiance I wander like one blind. 
       We are indeed children of Light. Why then do we fear when we see the Light? Come, let us look all around and see, here no man hath cause for any fear. 
       In this boundless ocean of Light, if a tiny lamp goes out, let it go; who can say that it will not burn again?