Posted in Memoirs, Poetics

Waiting

The song I came to sing
remains unsung to this day
I have spent my days in stringing
and in unstringing my instrument

The time has not come true,
the words have not been rightly set
only there is the agony
of wishing in my heart

I have not seen his face,
nor have I listened to his voice
only I have heard his gentle footsteps
from the road before my house

But the lamp has not been lit
and I cannot ask him into my house
I live in the hope of meeting with him
but this meeting is not yet

*** Composed by Rabindranath Tagore***

Author:

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