O woman, you are not merely the <br />handiwork of God, but also of men; <br />these are ever endowing you with <br />beauty from their hearts. <br />Poets are weaving for you a web <br />with threads of golden imagery; <br />painters are giving your form ever <br />new immortality. <br />The sea gives its pearls, the mines <br />their gold, the summer gardens their <br />flowers to deck you, to cover you, to <br />make you more precious. <br />The desire of men's hearts has shed <br />its glory over your youth. <br />You are one half woman and one <br />half dream.<br /><br />Rabindranath Tagore<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-gardener-lix-o-woman/
