THE LANTERN which I carry in my hand
makes enemy of the darkness of the farther road.
And this wayside becomes a terror to me,
where even the flowering tree frowns
like a spectre of scowling menace;
and the sound of my own steps
comes back to me in the echo of muffled suspicion.
Therefore I pray for thy own morning light,
when the far and the near will kiss each other and
death and life will be one in love.
makes enemy of the darkness of the farther road.
And this wayside becomes a terror to me,
where even the flowering tree frowns
like a spectre of scowling menace;
and the sound of my own steps
comes back to me in the echo of muffled suspicion.
Therefore I pray for thy own morning light,
when the far and the near will kiss each other and
death and life will be one in love.
Rabindranath
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