Last night in the garden I offered you my youth's foaming wine. You <br />lifted the cup to your lips, you shut your eyes and smiled while <br />I raised your veil, unbound your tresses, drawing down upon my <br />breast your face sweet with its silence, last night when the moon's <br />dream overflowed the world of slumber. <br /> To-day in the dew-cooled calm of the dawn you are walking to <br />God's temple, bathed and robed in white, with a basketful of <br />flowers in your hand. I stand aside in the shade under the tree, <br />with my head bent, in the calm of the dawn by the lonely road to <br />the temple.<br /><br />Rabindranath Tagore<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lover-s-gifts-xiii-last-night-in-the-garden/
