They are cruel in their greed and their envy,
their words are like hidden
knives thirsting for blood.
Go and stand amidst their scowling hearts, my child,
and let your gentle
eyes fall upon them like the
forgiving peace of the evening over the strife
of the day.
Let them see your face, my child, and thus know the
meaning of all things,
let them love you and love each other.
Come and take your seat in the bosom of the limitless, my child.
At
sunrise open and raise your heart like a blossoming flower,
and at sunset
bend your head and in silence
complete the worship of the day.
INDOlink
Poetry
Tagore's Poems
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