The Gardener (Tagore)/34
Do not go, my love, without asking my leave.
I have watched all night, and now my eyes are heavy with sleep.
I fear lest I lose you when I am sleeping.
Do not go, my love, without asking my leave.
I start up and stretch my hands to touch you. I ask myself, “Is it a dream?”
Could I but entangle your feet with my heart and hold them fast to my breast!
Do not go, my love, without asking my leave.