Читать книгу The Essential Works of Tagore - Rabindranath Tagore - Страница 315

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I. 117. sâîn se lagan kathin hai, bhâî

Now hard it is to meet my Lord!

The rain-bird wails in thirst for the rain: almost she dies of

her longing, yet she would have none other water than the

rain.

Drawn by the love of music, the deer moves forward: she dies as

she listens to the music, yet she shrinks not in fear.

The widowed wife sits by the body of her dead husband: she is not

afraid of the fire.

Put away all fear for this poor body.