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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=499187" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To Pain</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I can give thou pain in return for pain, <br>Let all the love be spoiled in vain.<br>If there is any thing called heart, my dear, <br>Let it be pierced with the pain like spear.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet I'll say, it is this pain<br>In which true delight we find, <br>It is this pain which<br>Brings spring in our mind.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Our eyes be filled with tears<br>When we feel pique and put our hands<br>Into the hands of pain, <br>It is this pain which<br>In the lonely Shravan night<br>Causes to come down rain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It is this pain which once teaches us love<br>And again teaches us indifference<br>When both of us forgetting each other<br>Go to two different ways.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">(Note: `Shravan'-the fourth month of Bengali calender usually remarkable for heavy rain.)</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Riffat+Samad">Riffat Samad</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=499187" data-title="To Pain de Riffat Samad" data-description="I can give thou pain in return for pain, 
Let all the love be spoiled in vain.
If there is any thing called heart, my dear, 
Let it be pierced with the pain like spear.

Yet I'll say, it is this pain
In which true delight we find, 
It is this pain..."></div>
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