"Art thou abroad on this stormy night on thy
journey of love, my friend? The sky groans
like one in despair. I have no sleep tonight.
Ever and again I open my door and look out
on the darkness, my friend! I can see nothing
before me.
I wonder where lies thy path! By what dim
shore of the ink-black river, by what far edge
of the frowning forest, through what mazy
depth of gloom art thou threading thy course
to come to me, my friend?"
Rabindranath Tagore
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