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作者: Rabindranath Tagore

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When I think of this end of my moments, the barrier of the
moments breaks and I see by the light of death thy world with its
careless treasures. Rare is its lowliest seat, rare is its
meanest of lives.
Things that I longed for in vain and things that I got-let them
pass. Let me but truly possess the things that I ever spurned and
overlooked.
93.
I have got my leave. Bid me farewell, my brothers! I bow to you
all and take my departure.
Here I give back the keys of my door-and I give up all claims to
my house. I only ask for last kind words from you.
We were neighbours for long, but I received more than I could
give. Now the day has dawned and the lamp that lit my dark corner
is out. A summons has come and I am ready for my journey.
94.
At this time of my parting, wish me good luck, my friends! The
sky is flushed with the dawn and my path lies beautiful.
Ask not what I have with me to take there. I start on my journey
with empty hands and expectant heart.

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