On the day when the lotus bloomed,
alas, my mind was straying, and I knew it not.
My basket was empty and the flower remained unheeded.
Only now and again in a sadness fell upon me,
and I started up from my dream and felt a sweet trace of strange fragrance in the south wind.
That vague sweetness made my heart ache with the longing and it seemed to me that it was the eagerness of the summer seeking for its completion.
I knew not then that is so near, that it was mine, and that this perfect sweetness had blossomed in the depth of my own heart.
——tagore