DARKLY YOU sweep on. Eternal Fugitive, round whose bodiless rush stagnant space frets into eddying bubbles of light.
        Is your heart lost to the Lover calling you across his immeasurable loneliness?
        Is the aching urgency of your haste the sole reason why your tangled tresses break into stormy riot and pearls of fire roll along your path as from a broken necklace?
Your fleeting steps kiss the dust of this world into sweetness, sweeping aside all waste; the storm centred with your dancing limbs shakes the sacred shower of death over life and freshens her growth.
        Should you in sudden weariness stop for a moment, the world would rumble into a heap, an encumbrance, barring its own progress, and even the least speck of dust would pierce the sky throughout its infinity with an unbearable pressure.
My thoughts are quickened by this rhythm of unseen feet round which the anklets of light are shaken.
        They echo in the pulse of my heart, and through my blood surges the psalm of the ancient sea.
        I hear the thundering flood tumbling my life from world to world and form to form, scattering my being in an endless spray of gifts, in sorrowings and songs.
The tide runs high, the wind blows, the boat dances like thine own desire, my heart!
        Leave the hoard on the shore and sail over the unfathomed dark towards limitless light.

I ONLY SAID, 'When in the evening the round full moon gets entangled among the branches of that Kadam tree, couldn't somebody catch it?'
But dada' laughed at me and said, 'Baby, you are the silliest child I have ever known. The moon is ever so far from us, how could anybody catch it?'
I said, 'Dada, how foolish you are! When mother looks out of her
window and smiles down at us playing, would you call her far away?'
Still dada said, 'You are a stupid child! But, baby, where could you find a net big enough to catch the moon with?'
I said, 'Surely you could catch it with your hands.'
But dada laughed and said, 'You are the silliest child I have known.
If it came nearer, you would see how big the moon is.'
I said, 'Dada, what nonsense they teach at your school! When mother bends her face down to kiss us does her face look very big?'
But still dada says, 'You are a stupid child.'

WHEN I ROSE from my sleep
I found a basket of oranges at my feet,
my mind wondered who could be the
giver of such a gift;
my guesses flew from one name to another
but sweet names were abandoned
like flowers in the Spring,
and all varied names combined
to make this gift a perfect one.