Simply Tagore.

 

 

I ask for a moment’s indulgence to sit by thy side. The works that I have in hand I will finish afterwards.

 

 

 

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Away from the sight of thy face my heart knows no rest nor respite, and my work becomes an endless toil in a  shore less sea of toil.

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Today the summer has come at my window with its sighs and murmurs; and the bees are plying their minstrelsy at the court of the flowering grove.

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Now it is time to sit quiet, face to face with thee, and to sing dedication of life in this silent and overflowing leisure.

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