"Where have I come from, where did you pick me up?" the baby
asked its mother.
She answered half crying, half laughing, and clasping the baby to
her breast,-- "You were hidden in my heart as its desire, my
darling.
You were in the dolls of my childhood's games; and when with clay
I made the image of my god every morning, I made and unmade you
then.
You were enshrined with our household deity, in his worship I
worshipped you.
In all my hopes and my loves, in my life, in the life of my
mother you have lived.
In the lap of the deathless Spirit who rules our home you have
been nursed for ages.
When in girlhood my heart was opening its petals, you hovered as
a fragrance about it.
Your tender softness bloomed in my youthful limbs, like a glow in
the sky before the sunrise.
Heaven's first darling, twin-born with the morning light, you
have floated down the stream of the world's life, and at last you
have stranded on my heart.
As I gaze on your face, mystery overwhelms me; you who belong to
all have become mine.
For fear of losing you I hold you tight to my breast. What magic
has snared the world's treasure in these slender arms of mine?"
By Rabindranath Tagore |
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"I am not in this world to live up to other people's expectations, nor do I feel that the world must live up to mine."
