|
XXIV
If the day is done, if birds sing no more, if the wind has
flagged tired, then draw the veil of darkness thick upon me, even
as thou hast wrapt the earth with the coverlet of sleep and tenderly
closed the petals of the drooping lotus at dusk.
From the traveller, whose sack of provisions is empty before the
voyage is ended, whose garment is torn and dust laden, whose strength
is exhausted, remove shame and poverty, and renew his life like a
flower under the cover of thy kindly night.
|
