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Thy gifts to us mortals fulfill all our needs and yet run back to thee undiminished.
     The river has its everyday work to do and hastens through fields and hamlets; yet its incessant stream winds towards the washing of thy feet.
     The flower sweetens the air with its perfume; yet its last service is to offer itself to thee.
     Thy worship does not impoverish the world.
     From the words of the poet men take what meanings please them; yet their last meaning points to thee.


-- from Gitanjali, by Rabindranath Tagore

Poetry Chaikhana | Rabindranath Tagore - (75) Thy gifts to us mortals fulfil all our needs (from Gitanjali)

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