the scent to wrap itself round the incense,
melody wants to take shape in rhythm,
rhythm turns to melody instead,
feelings looks for a body in form,
form can only find itself in feelings.
The infinite seeks the intimate presence of the finite,
the finite to disappear in the infinite.
I do not know whose scheme this is
in the eternal cycle of beginnings and end
that between feeling and form should be this interchange,
that the bound should be on a search after freedom—
freedom asking to be housed in the bound.
Courtesy: Ravindranath Tagore Collection;Translation by Pratima Bowes