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Tagore, Rabindranath, 1861-1941

"The Gardener"


That is why I disguise them in untruth, saying the contrary of
what I mean.
I make my pain appear absurd, afraid that you should do so.
I long to use the most precious words I have for you; but I dare
not, fearing I should not be paid with like value.
That is why I gave you hard names and boast of my callous
strength.
I hurt you, for fear you should never know any pain.
I long to sit silent by you; but I dare not lest my heart come
out at my lips.
That is why I prattle and chatter lightly and hide my heart
behind words.
I rudely handle my pain, for fear you should do so.
I long to go away from your side; but I dare not, for fear my
cowardice should become known to you.
That is why I hold my head high and carelessly come into your
presence.
Constant thrusts from your eyes keep my pain fresh for ever.

42

O mad, superbly drunk;
If you kick open your doors and play the fool in public;
If you empty your bag in a night, and snap your fingers at
prudence;
If you walk in curious paths and play with useless things;
Reck not rhyme or reason;
If unfurling your sails before the storm you snap the rudder in
two,
Then I will follow you, comrade, and be drunken and go to the
dogs.
I have wasted my days and nights in the company of steady wise
neighbours.
Much knowing has turned my hair grey, and much watching has made
my sight dim.
For years I have gathered and heaped up scraps and fragments of
things;
Crush them and dance upon them, and scatter them all to the
winds.


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