Gitanjali-22
IN the deep shadows of the rainy July,
with secret steps, thou walkest, silent
as night, eluding all watchers.
To-day the morning has closed its
eyes, heedless of the insistent calls of
the loud east wind, and a thick veil
has been drawn over the ever-wakeful
blue sky.
The woodlands have hushed their
songs, and doors are all shut at every
house. Thou art the solitary wayfarer
in this deserted street. Oh my only
friend, my best beloved, the gates are
open in my house- do not pass by
like a dream.