The Gardener (Tagore)/36

by Rabindranath Tagore

HE whispered, “My love, raise your eyes.”
I sharply chid him, and said “Go!”; but he did not stir.
He stood before me and held both my hands. I said, “Leave me!”; but he did not go.

He brought his face near my ear. I glanced at him and said, “What a shame!”; but he did not move.
His lips touched my cheek. I trembled and said, “You dare too much”; but he had no shame.

He put a flower in my hair. I said, “It is useless!”; but he stood unmoved.
He took the garland from my neck and went away. I weep and ask my heart, “Why does he not come back?”