SEARCH
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Prev | Current Page 12 | Next

Tagore, Rabindranath, 1861-1941

"The Fugitive"


That times are changed I forget for a little, and have come.

I forget if you ever shamed me by looking away when I bared my heart.
I only remember the words that stranded on the tremor of your lips; I
remember in your dark eyes sweeping shadows of passion, like the wings of a
home-seeking bird in the dusk.
I forget that you do not remember, and I come.

17

The rain fell fast. The river rushed and hissed. It licked up and swallowed
the island, while I waited alone on the lessening bank with my sheaves of
corn in a heap.

From the shadows of the opposite shore the boat crosses with a woman at the
helm.
I cry to her, "Come to my island coiled round with hungry water, and take
away my year's harvest."

She comes, and takes all that I have to the last grain; I ask her to take
me.
But she says, "No"--the boat is laden with my gift and no room is left for
me.

18

The evening beckons, and I would fain follow the travellers who sailed in
the last ferry of the ebb-tide to cross the dark.


Pages:
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25