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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=480028" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The End</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">It is time for me to go, mother; I am going.<br> When in the paling darkness of the lonely dawn you stretch out<br>your arms for your baby in the bed, I shall say, &quot;Baby is not<br>here!&quot;-mother, I am going.<br> I shall become a delicate draught of air and caress you and<br>I shall be ripples in the water when you bathe, and kiss you and<br>kiss you again.<br> In the gusty night when the rain patters on the leaves you<br>will hear my whisper in your bed, and my laughter will flash with<br>the lightning through the open window into your room.<br> If you lie awake, thinking of your baby till late into the<br>night, I shall sing to you from the stars, &quot;Sleep, mother, sleep.&quot;<br> One the straying moonbeams I shall steal over your bed, and<br>lie upon your bosom while you sleep.<br> I shall become a dream, and through the little opening of your<br>eyelids I shall slip into the depths of your sleep; and when you<br>wake up and look round startled, like a twinkling firefly I shall<br>flit out into the darkness.<br> When, on the great festival of puja, the neighbours' children<br>come and play about the house, I shall melt into the music of the<br>flute and throb in your heart all day.<br> Dear auntie will come with puja-presents and will ask,&quot;Where<br>is our baby, sister?&quot; Mother, you will tell her softly, &quot;He is in<br>the pupils of my eyes, he is in my body and in my soul.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Rabindranath+Tagore">Rabindranath Tagore</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=480028" data-title="The End de Rabindranath Tagore" data-description="It is time for me to go, mother; I am going.
 When in the paling darkness of the lonely dawn you stretch out
your arms for your baby in the bed, I shall say, &quot;Baby is not
here!&quot;-mother, I am going.
 I shall become a delicate draught of a..."></div>
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