37, by Rabindranath Tagore

I thought that my voyage had come to its end at the last limit of my power--the path before me was closed, that provisions were exhausted and the time come to take shelter in a silent obscurity.

But I find that thy will knows no end in me. And when old words die out on the tongue, new melodies break forth from the heart; and when the old tracks are lost, new country is revealed with its wonders.

From “Gitanjali: A Collection of Prose Translations Made by the Author from the Original Bengali” by Rabindranath Tagore (Scribner: 128 pp., $8.) Copyright 1997 Reprinted by permission.