Gitanjali

me ever feel that the long journey is still before me—

let me not forget for a moment, let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams and in my wakeful hours

let me not forget for a moment, let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams and in my wakeful hours

Let only that little of my fetters be left whereby I am bound with thy will, and thy purpose is carried out in my life—and that is the fetter of thy love.

The delights of sight and hearing and touch will bear thy delight.

thousand bonds of delight

Deliverance is not for me in renunciation

The shroud that covers me is a shroud of dust and death; I hate it, yet hug it in love

Freedom is all I want

In this playhouse of infinite forms I have had my play and here have I caught sight of him that is formless.