Gitanjali-53
BEAUTIFUL is thy wristlet, decked with
stars and cunningly wrought in
myriad- coloured jewels. But more
beautiful to me thy sword with its
curve of lightning like the outspread
wings of the divine bird of Vishnu,
perfectly poised in the angry red light
of the sunset.
It quivers like the one last
response of life in ecstasy of pain at
the final stroke of death; it shines like
the pure flame of being burning up
earthly sense with one fierce flash.
Beautiful is thy wristlet, decked
with starry gems; but thy sword, 0
lord of thunder, is wrought with
uttermost beauty, terrible to behold
or to think of.