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