Death belongs to life as birth does The walk is in the raising of the foot as in the laying of it down
Rabindranath TagoreDrunk with the joy of singing I forget myself and call thee friend who art my lord.
Rabindranath TagoreMy Friend: Art thou abroad on this stormy night on thy journey of love, my friend? The sky groans like one in despair. I have no sleep tonight. Ever and again I open my door and look out on the darkness, my friend! I can see nothing before me. I wonder where lies thy path! By what dim shore of the ink-black river, by what far edge of the frowning forest, through what mazy depth of gloom art thou threading thy course to come to me, my friend?
Rabindranath Tagore