168 That which oppresses me, is it my soul trying to come out in the open, or the soul of the world knocking at my heart for its entrance? 169 Thought feeds itself with its own words and grows. 170 I have dipped the vessel of my heart into this silent hour; it has filled with love. 171 Either you have work or you have not. When you have to say, "Let us do something," then begins mischief. 172 The sunflower blushed to own the nameless flower as her kin. The sun rose and smiled on it, saying, "Are you well, my darling?" 173 "Who drives me forward like fate?" "The Myself striding on my back." 174 The clouds fill the watercups of the river, hiding themselves in the distant hills. 175 I spill water from my water jar as I walk on my way, Very little remains for my home. 176 The water in a vessel is sparkling; the water in the sea is dark. The small truth has words that are clear; the great truth has great silence. 177 Your smile was the flowers of your own fields, your talk was the rustle of your own mountain pines, but your heart was the woman that we all know. 178 It is the little things that I leave behind for my loved ones,-- great things are for everyone. 179 Woman, thou hast encircled the world's heart with the depth of thy tears as the sea has the earth. 180 The sunshine greets me with a smile. The rain, his sad sister, talks to my heart. 181 My flower of the day dropped its petals forgotten.
Source: Internet Sacred Text Archive, file hin/tagore/strybrds.htm.
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