In your sleep,
At the threshold of your dreams,
I wait and gaze silently on your face
As the morning star first appears at your window.
In the same way, by the seashore,
The ascetic plunged in meditation
Gazes towards the East –
His hours of vigil pass away in sleepless ecstasy,
As he looks forward to his immersion
In the first light of morning.
With mine eyes,
I shall drink the first smile
That blooms on your half-opened lips
Like a flower-bud –
This is my wish.
RABINDRANATH TAGORE (India, 1861–1941)
From “Later Poems of Tagore
Orient Paperbacks, New Delhi