To see yor face

You took my hand and drew me to your side, made me sit on a high seat before all men, till i became timid, unable to stir and walk on my own way; doubting and debating at every step lest i should tread upon any thorn of their disfavour.

I am freed at last!

The blow has come, the drum of insult sounded, my seat is laid low in the dust.

My paths are open before me.

My wings are full of desire of the sky.

I go to join the shooting stars of midnight, to plunge into the profound shadow.

In destperate joy I run upon the dusty path of the despised; i draw near to your final welcome.

The child finds its mother when it leaves her womb.

When i'm parted from you, thrown out of your household,

I am free to see your face.

-From the works of Rabindranath Tagore