পাতা:Original manuscript of Gitanjali - Rabindranath Tagore - Rothenstein collection.pdf/১১১

এই পাতাটির মুদ্রণ সংশোধন করা হয়েছে, কিন্তু বৈধকরণ করা হয়নি।

 I dive down into the depth of the ocean of forms, hoping to gain the perfect pearl of the formless. No more sailing from harbour to harbour with this my weather — beaten bark. The days are long past when my sport was to be tossed on waves. And now, losing myself into the bottom of bliss I am eager to die into deathlessness.

 Into the audience hall at the fathomless abyss where swells up the music of toneless strings I shall take his harp of my life. I shall tune it to the nots of Forever, and, when it has sobbed out its last utterance, lay down my silent harp at the feet of the Silent.