Poem: Waiting

The song I came to sing 
remains unsung to this day. 
I have spent my days in stringing 
and in unstringing my instrument. 

The time has not come true, 
the words have not been rightly set; 
only there is the agony 
of wishing in my heart….. 

I have not seen his face, 
nor have I listened to his voice; 
only I have heard his gentle footsteps 
from the road before my house….. 

But the lamp has not been lit 
and I cannot ask him into my house; 
I live in the hope of meeting with him; 
but this meeting is not yet. 

—- Rabindranath Tagore