gitanjali

ART thou abroad on this stormy night
on thy journey of love, my friend? The
sky groans like one in despair.

I have no sleep to-night. Ever and
again I open my door and look out on
the darkness, my friend!

I can see nothing before me. I
wonder where lies thy path!

By what dim shore of the ink-black
river, by what far edge of the frowning
forest, through what many depth of
gloom art thou threading thy course
to come to me, my friend?