Gitanjali 51

The night darkened. Our day’s works had been done. We thought that thelast guest had arrived for the night and the doors in the village wereall shut. Only some said the king was to come. We laughed and said “No,it cannot be!”

It seemed there were knocks at the door and we said it was nothing butthe wind. We put out the lamps and lay down to sleep. Only some said,“It is the messenger!” We laughed and said “No, it must be the wind!”

There came a sound in the dead of the night. We sleepily thought it wasthe distant thunder. The earth shook, the walls rocked, and it troubledus in our sleep. Only some said it was the sound of wheels. We said ina drowsy murmur, “No, it must be the rumbling of clouds!”

The night was still dark when the drum sounded. The voice came “Wakeup! delay not!” We pressed our hands on our hearts and shuddered withfear. Some said, “Lo, there is the king’s flag!” We stood up on ourfeet and cried “There is no time for delay!”

The king has come—but where are lights, where are wreaths? Where is thethrone to seat him? Oh, shame! Oh utter shame! Where is the hall, thedecorations? Someone has said, “Vain is this cry! Greet him with emptyhands, lead him into thy rooms all bare!”

Open the doors, let the conch-shells be sounded! in the depth of thenight has come the king of our dark, dreary house. The thunder roars inthe sky. The darkness shudders with lightning. Bring out thy tatteredpiece of mat and spread it in the courtyard. With the storm has come ofa sudden our king of the fearful night.