Cheerless is the day, the light under frowning clouds is like a punished child with traces of tears on its pale cheeks, and the cry of the wind is like the cry of a wounded world. But I know I am travelling to meet my Friend.
aphorism by Rabindranath Tagore from Stray Birds (1916), translated by Rabindranath Tagore
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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