Hands cling to hands and eyes linger on eyes: thus
begins the record of our hearts.
It is the moonlight night of March; the sweet smell of henna
is in the air; my flute lies on the earth neglected and your garland
of flowers
is unfinished.
This love between you and me is simple as a song.
Rabindranath Tagore
5 comments:
Ah, love! The Tagore poem is simply beautiful :) The lovely moon photo calls to mind the recent Darvish post, which you might enjoy:
http://darvish.wordpress.com/2007/03/10/the-upward-glance-and-the-lowest-bow/
Peace and Many Blessings!
lovely!
Ah! Thank you-
the poem is beautiful and the moon, compliment the vision of perception. Love it!
very nice!
love!
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