Song Offerings -- XXVI
He came and sat by my side but I woke not.
What a cursed sleep it was, O miserable me!
He came when the night was still;
he had his harp in his hands,
and my dreams became resonant with its melodies.
Alas, why are my nights all thus lost?
Ah, why do I ever miss his sight
whose breath touches my sleep?
Rabindranath Tagore
--
╭─────────────────────────╮
│"To spell out the obvious is often to call it in │
│question." -- Eric Hoffer │
╰───────────◇ http://dale.rileks.com ◇╯
--
※ 發信站: 批踢踢實業坊(ptt.csie.ntu.edu.tw)
◆ From: 61.216.22.202