The Gardener (Tagore)/41

I LONG to speak the deepest words I have to say to you; but I dare not, for fear you should laugh. That is why I laugh at myself and shatter my secret in jest. I make light of my pain, afraid you should do so. I long to tell you the truest words I have to say to you; but I dare not, being afraid that you would not believe them. That is why I disguise them in untruth, saying the contrary of what I mean. I make my pain appear absurd, afraid that you should do so. I long to use the most precious words I have for you; but I dare not, fearing I should not be paid with like value. That is why I give you hard names and boast of my callous strength. I hurt you, for fear you should never know any pain. I long to sit silent by you; but I dare not lest my heart come out at my lips. That is why I prattle and chatter lightly and hide my heart behind words. I rudely handle my pain, for fear you should do so. I long to go away from your side; but I dare not, for fear my cowardice should become known to you. That is why I hold my head high and carelessly come into your presence. Constant thrusts from your eyes keep my pain fresh for ever.