| Gitanjali |
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| Culture |
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INTRODUCTION |
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innocence, a simplicity that one does not find elsewhere in
literature makes the birds and the leaves seem as near to him as
they are near to children, and the changes of the seasons great
events as before our thoughts had arisen between them and us. At
times I wonder if he has it from the literature of Bengal or from
religion, and at other times, remembering the birds alighting on his
brother's hands, I find pleasure in thinking it hereditary, a
mystery that was growing through the centuries like the courtesy of
a Tristan or a Pelanore. Indeed, when he is speaking of children, so
much a part of himself this quality seems, one is not certain that
he is not also speaking of the saints, `They build their houses with
sand and they play with empty shells.
With withered leaves they weave their boats and smilingly float them on the vast deep. Children have their play on the seashore of worlds. They know not how to swim, they know not how to cast nets. Pearl fishers dive for pearls, merchants sail in their ships, while children gather pebbles and scatter them again. They seek not for hidden treasures, they know not how to cast nets.' W. B. YEATS September 1912
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