("I found a few old letters...")

Poems

XIV

I found a few old letters of mine carefully hidden in

thy box-a few small toys for thy memory to play with.

With a timorous heart thou didst try to steal these

trifles from the turbulent stream of time which washes

away planets and stars, and didst say, "These are only

mine!" Alas, there is no one now who can claim them-

who is able to pay their price; yet they are still here. Is

there no love in this world to rescue thee from utter loss,

even like this love of thine that saved these letters with

such fond care?

O woman, thou camest for a moment to my side and

touched me with the great mystery of the woman that

there is in the heart of creation-she who ever gives

back to God his own outflow of sweetness; who is the

eternal love and beauty and youth; who dances in bub-

bling streams and sings in the morning light; who with

heaving waves suckles the thirsty earth and whose mercy

melts in rain; in whom the eternal one breaks in two in

joy that can contain itself no more and overflows in the

pain of love.

Rabindra Nath Tagore