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作者: Rabindranath Tagore

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Messengers, with tidings from unknown skies, greet me and speed
along the road. My heart is glad within, and the breath of the
passing breeze is sweet.
From dawn till dusk I sit here before my door, and I know that of
a sudden the happy moment will arrive when I shall see.
In the meanwhile I smile and I sing all alone. In the meanwhile
the air is filling with the perfume of promise.
45.
Have you not heard his silent steps? He comes, comes, ever comes.
Every moment and every age, every day and every night he comes,
comes, ever comes.
Many a song have I sung in many a mood of mind, but all their
notes have always proclaimed, "He comes, comes, ever comes."
In the fragrant days of sunny April through the forest path he
comes, comes, ever comes.
In the rainy gloom of July nights on the thundering chariot of
clouds he comes, comes, ever comes.
In sorrow after sorrow it is his steps that press upon my heart,
and it is the golden touch of his feet that makes my joy to
shine.
46.

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