Gitanjali - Beauty:
- Beautiful is your wristlet, decked with stars and cunningly wrought in myriad-coloured jewels.
But more beautiful to me your sword with its curve of lightning like the outspread wings of the divine bird of Vishnu, perfectly poised in the angry red light of the sunset.
It quivers like the one last response of life in ecstasy of pain at the final stroke of death;
it shines like the pure flame of being burning up earthly sense with one fierce flash.
Beautiful is your wristlet, decked with starry gems;
but your sword, O lord of thunder, is wrought with uttermost beauty, terrible to behold or think of.