The Fugitive by Rabindranath Tagore

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Who can imagine that aching overflow of splendour which created you!

The Fugitive by Rabindranath Tagore

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Be not concerned about her heart, my heart: be content if the music is true, though the words are not to be believed; enjoy the grace that dances like a lily on the rippling, deceiving surface, whatever may lie beneath.

The Fugitive by Rabindranath Tagore

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What gifts have you brought in both hands to fling before me in the dust?
I fear, if I accept, to create a debt that can never be paid even by the loss of all I have.
Do not stand before my window with your youth and flowers to shame my destitute life.