poet Rabindranath Tagore

Rabindranath Tagore

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The Gardener Xx: Day After Day He Comes

Day after day he comes and goes
away.
Go, and give him a flower from my
hair, my friend.
If he asks who was it that sent it, I
entreat you do not tell him my name--
for he only comes and goes away.
He sits on the dust under the tree.
Spread there a seat with flowers and
leaves, my friend.
His eyes are sad, and they bring
sadness to my heart.
He does not speak what he has in
mind; he only comes and goes away.

Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004

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Read poems about / on: friend, flower, sad, tree, hair, heart