Page:Original manuscript of Gitanjali - Rabindranath Tagore - Rothenstein collection.pdf/83

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mina was wind. On the day when the lotus bloomed, alas, my straying, and I know it not. My basket was empty and the flower remained unheeded. Only now and again a safneoo fell upon me, treet and aeroine I started ufo from my dream and

  1. felt a sweet trace of a strange smell in the south

That ougue fragrance make my heart acha with longing and it seemed to me that it was the eager breath of the summer bestand seeking for its Materiallar completion dura e 2 Knew not then that it was made forway, it was mine, in prostituerading and home, and this perfecto sweetness had blossomed in the depth of myownkast, SO near, 40