Page:Chitra - Rabindranath Tagore.djvu/52



is thy last night.

The loveliness of your body will return to-morrow to the inexhaustible stores of the spring. The ruddy tint of thy lips freed from the memory of Arjuna’s kisses, will bud anew as a pair of fresh asoka leaves, and the soft, white glow of thy skin will be born again in a hundred fragrant jasmine flowers.

O gods, grant me this my prayer! To-night, in its last hour let my