Gitanjali-100
I DIVE down into the depth of the
ocean of forms, hoping to gain the
perfect pearl of the formless.
No more sailing from harbour to
harbour with this my weather-beaten
boat. The days are long passed when
my sport was to be tossed on waves.
And now I am eager to die into the
deathless.
Into the audience hall by the
fathomless abyss where swells up the
music of toneless strings I shall take
this harp of my life.
I shall tune it to the notes of for
ever, and, when it has sobbed out its
last utterance, lay down my silent
harp at the feet of the silent.