Day after day he comes and goes <br />away. <br />Go, and give him a flower from my <br />hair, my friend. <br />If he asks who was it that sent it, I <br />entreat you do not tell him my name-- <br />for he only comes and goes away. <br />He sits on the dust under the tree. <br />Spread there a seat with flowers and <br />leaves, my friend. <br />His eyes are sad, and they bring <br />sadness to my heart. <br />He does not speak what he has in <br />mind; he only comes and goes away.<br /><br />Sir Rabindranath Tagore<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-gardener-xx-day-after-day-he-comes-2/
