Dusk

Dusk is here. Darkness starts to come up from the bushes and the shrubs.
I am going to take a walk down to the river.

How marvellous the sound of running water in the near dark!
I heard it a quarter mile away...at the river, solitude, no one around,
no one has come to fish,
there is some wind, small waves gallop on the light plain.

I don't know if I'll go back home tonight or not.
I have the feeling I'm going to meet someone.
And sure enough, where the footpath crosses the river, there is a boat.
Floating in the boat is a person whom I've never seen, playing a flute.

(Rabindranath Tagore , Gitanjali)

About Indian Poetry