There rose a murmur like the angry hum of bees disturbed in their hive; and the students muttered at the shameless insolence of that outcast.
Master Guatama rose from his seat, stretched out his arms, took the boy to his bosom, and said, “Best of all Brahmins art thou, my child. Thou hast the noblest heritage of truth.”
May be there is one house in this city where the gate opens for ever this morning at the touch of the sunrise, where the errand of the light is fulfilled.
The flowers have opened in hedges and gardens, and may be there is one heart that has found in them this morning the gift that has been on its voyage from endless time.
Listen, my heart, in his flute is the music of the smell of wild flowers, of the glistening leaves and gleaming water, of shadows resonant with bees’ wings.
The flute steals his smile from my friend"s lips and spreads it over my life.
You always stand alone beyond the stream of my songs.
The waves of my tunes wash your feet but I know not how to reach them.
This play of mine with you is a play from afar.
It is the pain of separation that melts into melody through my flute.
I wait for the time when your boat crosses over to my shore and you take my flute into your own hands.
Suddenly the window of my heart flew open this morning, the window that looks out on your heart.
I wondered to see that the name by which you know me is written in April leaves and flowers, and I sat silent.
The curtain was blown away for a moment between my songs and yours.
I found that your morning light was full of my own mute songs unsung; I thought that I would learn them at your feet-and I sat silent.
You were in the centre of my heart, therefore when my heart wandered she never found you; you hid yourself from my loves and hopes till the last, for you were always in them.
You were the inmost joy in the play of my youth, and when I was too busy with the play the joy was passed by.
You sang to me in the ecstasies of my life and I forgot to sing to you.
When you hold your lamp in the sky it throws its light on my face and its shadow falls over you.
When I hold the lamp of love in my heart its light falls on you and I am left standing behind in the shadow.