Come to my garden walk, my love. Pass by the fervid flowers that
press themselves on your sight. Pass them by, stopping at some
chance joy, which like a sudden wonder of sunset illumines, yet
elude.
For lover's gift is shy, it never tells its name, it flits
across the shade, spreading a shiver of joy along the dust.
Overtake it or miss it for ever. But a gift that can be
grasped is merely a frail flower, or a lamp with flame that will
flicker.
Lover's Gifts Ii: Come To My Garden Walk
Rabindranath Tagore
(1)
Poem topics: flower, never, sunset, walk, I miss you, shade, chance, garden, lamp, flame, dust, joy, love, I love you, gift, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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