I plucked your flower, O world! <br />I pressed it to my heart and the <br />thorn pricked. <br />When the day waned and it <br />darkened, I found that the flower had <br />faded, but the pain remained. <br />More flowers will come to you with <br />perfume and pride, O world! <br />But my time for flower-gathering <br />is over, and through the dark night <br />I have not my rose, only the pain <br />remains.<br /><br />Rabindranath Tagore<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-gardener-lvii-i-plucked-your-flower/
