The cricket's chirp and the patter of rain come to me through the dark, like the rustle of dreams from my past youth.

The cricket's chirp and the patter of rain come to me through the dark, like the rustle of dreams from my past youth.

aphorism by Rabindranath Tagore from Stray Birds (1916), translated by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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