Lover's Gifts XLVIII: I Travelled The Old Road

By Rabindranath Tagore

I travelled the old road every day, I took my fruits to the market,

my cattle to the meadows, I ferried my boat across the stream and

all the ways were well known to me.

    One morning my basket was heavy with wares. Men were busy in

the fields, the pastures crowded with cattle; the breast of earth

heaved with the mirth of ripening rice.

    Suddenly there was a tremor in the air, and the sky seemed to

kiss me on my forehead. My mind started up like the morning out of

mist.

    I forgot to follow the track. I stepped a few paces from the

path, and my familiar world appeared strange to me, like a flower

I had only known in bud.

    My everyday wisdom was ashamed. I went astray in the fairyland

of things. It was the best luck of my life that I lost my path that

morning, and found my eternal childhood.