gitanjali

LET all the strains of joy mingle in my
last song- the joy that makes the
earth flow over in the riotous excess
of the grass, the joy that sets the twin
brothers, life and death, dancing over
the wide world, the joy that sweeps in
with the tempest, shaking and waking
all life with laughter, the joy that sits
still with its tears on the open red
lotus of pain, and the joy that throws
everything it has upon the dust, and
knows not a word.