The morning sea of silence broke into ripples of bird songs; and the flowers
were all merry by the roadside; and the wealth of
gold was scattered through the rift of the clouds while we busily went on our
way and paid no heed.
We sang no glad songs nor played; we went not to the village for barter; we spoke
not a word nor smiled; we lingered not on the way. We quickened our pave more
and more as the time sped by.
The sun rose to the mid sky and doves cooed in the shade. Withered leaves danced
and whirled in the hot air of noon. The shepherd boy drowsed and dreamed in the
shadow of the banyan tree, and I laid myself down by the water and stretched my
tired limbs on the grass.
My companions laughed at me in scorn; they held their heads high and hurried on;
they never looked back nor rested; they vanished in the distant blue
haze. They crossed many meadows and hills, and passed
through strange, far-away countries. All honour to you, heroic host of the
interminable path! Mockery and reproach pricked me to rise, but found no
response in me. I gave myself up for lost in the depth of a glad humiliation
— in the shadow of a dim delight.
The repose of the sun-embroidered green gloom slowly spread over my heart. I
forgot for what I had travelled, and I surrendered my mind without struggle to
the maze of shadows and songs.
At last, when I woke from my slumber and opened my eyes, I saw thee standing by
me, flooding my sleep with thy smile. How I had feared that the path was long
and wearisome, and the struggle to reach thee was hard!