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Rabindranath Tagore - The Gardener XXI: Why Did He Choose
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Why did he choose to come to my
door, the wandering youth, when the
day dawned?
     As I come in and out I pass by him
every time, and my eyes are caught by 
his face.
     I know not if I should speak to him
or keep silent. Why did he choose to 
come to my door?
     The cloudy nights in July are dark;
the sky is soft blue in the autumn; the
spring days are restless with the south
wind.
     He weaves his songs with fresh
tunes every time.
     I turn from my work and my eyes
fill with the mist. Why did he choose 
to come to my door?
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