Gitanjali - Death:
- Death, your servant, is at my door.
He has crossed the unknown sea and brought your call to my home.
The night is dark and my heart is fearful - yet I will take up the lamp, open my gates and bow to him my welcome.
It is your messenger who stands at my door.
I will worship him placing at his feet the treasure of my heart.
He will go back with his errand done, leaving a dark shadow on my morning;
and in my desolate home only my forlorn self will remain as my last offering to you.