GITANJALI

LXIV

On the slope of the desolate river among tall grasses I asked her, 'Maiden, where do you go shading your lamp with your mantle? My house is all dark and lonesome  lend me your light!'

she raised her dark eyes for a moment and looked at my face through the dusk. I have come to the river,' she said, to float my lamp on the stream when the daylight wanes in the west.' I stood alone among tall grasses and watched the timid flame of her lamp uselessly drifting in the tide.

In the silence of gathering night I asked her, 'Maiden, your lights are all lit | then where do you go with your lamp? My house is all dark and lonesome | lend me your light.' She raised her dark eyes on my face and stood for a moment doubtful. 'I have come,' she said at last, to dedicate my lamp to the sky.' I stood and watched her light uselessly burning in the void.

In the moonless gloom of midnight I ask her, 'Maiden, what is your quest, holding the lamp near your heart? My house is all dark and lonesome lend me your light.' She stopped for a minute and thought and gazed at my face in the dark. 'I have brought my light,' she said, `to join the carnival of lamps.' I stood and watched her little lamp uselessly lost among lights.

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