To the guests that must go bid
God's speed and brush away all traces
of their steps.
Take to your bosom with a smile
what is easy and simple and near.
To-day is the festival of phantoms
that know not when they die.
Let your laughter be but a meaning-
less mirth like twinkles of light on
the ripples.
Let your life lightly dance on the
edges of Time like dew on the tip of
a leaf.
Strike in chords from your harp
fitful momentary rhythms.
Take to your bosom with a smile what is easy and simple and near. To-day is the festival of phantoms that know not when they die.. great mind and simplicity of language. tony
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Take to your bosom with a smile what is easy and simple and near. To-day is the festival of phantoms that know not when they die. Wonderful poem of the great Tagore of India. tony