泰戈尔诗一首

 

You allowed your kingly power to vanish, Shajahan, but your wish was to make imperishable a tear-drop of love.

Time has no pity for the human heart, laughs at its sad struggle to remember.

You allured him with beauty, made him captive, and crowned the formless death with fadeless form.

The secret whispered in the hush of night to the ear of your love is wrought in the perpetual silence of stone.

Though empires crumble to dust, and centuries are lost in shadows, the marble still sighs to the stars, “I remember.”

“I remember.”-But life forgets, for she has her call to the endless; and she goes on her voyage unburdened, leaving her memories to the forlorn forms of beauty.