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One Day In Spring

One day in spring, a woman

In my lonely woods,

In the lovely form of the Beloved.

Came, to give to my songs, melodies,

To give to my dreams, sweetness.

Suddenly a wild

Broke over my heart's

And drowned all language.

To my lips no name came,

She stood beneath the tree, turned,

Glanced at my face, made sad with pain,

And with quick steps, came and sat by me.

Taking my hands in hers, she said:'You do not know me, nor I you—I wonder how this could be?'I said:'We two shall build, a bridge for

Between two beings, each to the other unknown,

This eager wonder is at the heart of things.'The cry that is in my heart is also the cry of her heart;

The thread with which she binds me binds her too.

Her have I sought everywhere,

Her have I worshipped within me,

Hidden in that worship she has sought me too.

Crossing the wide oceans, she came to steal my heart.

She forgot to return, having lost her own.

Her own charms play traitor to her,

She spreads her net, knowing

Whether she will catch or be caught.

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Rabindranath Tagore

Rabindranath Tagore (born Robindronath Thakur, 7 May 1861 – 7 August 1941), sobriquets Gurudev, was a Bengali polymath- poet, writer, composer, …

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