The music of summer, long gone, soars through autumn, seeking its old nest. Honor makes me ashamed, for I secretly crave it. (Stray Birds) This is enough: what honor can exceed God's invitation to you? Since you are listed as a guest, why ask if I may join the other honored guests, if I may pay my respects, or if I may present my gift? Wandering summer birds come to my window, sing, and fly away. The withered autumn leaves have no song, but dance with a sigh as they fall. Joy released from the dreams of the world flows into countless leaves, dancing in the wind all day long. The waterfall sings: "I find my song when I am free." "Life is as magnificent as summer flowers; death is as serene as autumn leaves." In this life, I truly want every paragraph of my life to be like a poem or a painting, blooming like a smile in the gentle winds, becoming a unique landscape. While picking the petals, I cannot grasp the beauty of the flower. (Stray Birds) For spring comes again after it departs, the moon becomes full after it wanes, and flowers bloom anew on the branches after they fade. Year after year, my farewell to you is perhaps only so that I may return to your side. O youth, are you forever imprisoned in a narrow circle? You must tear through the deceptive web of old age. For spring returns, the full moon visits year after year, and blossoms bloom again in crimson on the branches. My departure is perhaps only to find my way back to you. (The Gift of Love) We misperceive the world and then say the world has deceived us. — Tagore
