Mother, the folk who live up in the clouds call out to me
"We play from the time we wake till the day ends
We play with the golden dawn, we play in the silver moon"
I ask "But how am I to get up to you" ?
They answered , "Come to the edge of the earth
lift up your hand to the sky, and you wil be taken up into the clouds"
"My mother will waiting for me at home", I say
How come I leave her and come?"
Then they smile and float away
But I know nicer game than that mother
I shall be the cloud and you the moon
I shall cover you with both my hands,
And our house top will be the blue sky
The folk who live in the waves call out to me
"We sing from morning till night on and on we travel
and know not where we pass"
And I ask "But how am I to join you?"
They tell me "Come to the edge of the shore and stand with
your eyes tight shut and you will be carried out upon the waves"
I say, "My mother always wants me at home in the everything
how can I leave and go?"
The smile, dance and pass bye
But I know a better game than that
I will be the waves and you will be strange shore
I shall roll on and on and on, and break upon your lap
And no one in the world will know where we both are
By Rabindranath Tagore