Tagore's Gitanjali, POEM NO. 102

I BOASTED among men that I had known you. 

They see your pictures in all works of mine. 

They come and ask me, "Who is he?" I know not how to answer them. I say, "Indeed, I cannot tell." 

They blame me and they go away in scorn. And you sit there smiling.

  I put my tales of you into lasting songs. 

The secret gushes out from my heart. 

They come and ask me, "Tell me all your meanings." I know not how to answer them. I say, "Ah, who knows what they mean!" 

They smile and go away in utter scorn. And you sit there smiling.

Tagore's Gitanjali, Poem No. 103

IN one salutation to thee, my God, 

let all my senses spread out and touch this world at thy feet. 

Like a rain-cloud of July hung low with its burden of unshed showers let all my mind bend down at thy door in one salutation to thee. 

Let all my songs gather together their diverse strains into a single current and flow to a sea of silence in one salutation to thee. 

Like a flock of homesick cranes flying night and day back to their mountain nests let all my life take its voyage to its eternal home in one salutation to thee.