Rabindranath Tagore

The Gardener: 60

Amidst the rush and roar of life, O Beauty, carved in stone, you stand mute and still, alone and aloof.
Great Time sits enamoured at your feet and murmurs:
“Speak, speak to me, my love; speak, my bride!”
But your speech is shut up in stone, O Immovable Beauty!

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