(Moreecheeka) Rabindranath Tagore
I am roaming around anxiously for the smell
that resembles mine.
On a spring night I cannot find the direction of the southerly wind.
What I want I mistakenly want, what I get I do not desire.
What I am longing for in my heart
comes back to me like a mirage.
I extend my arms to receive it in my heart but I cannot find it .
What I want I mistakenly want, what I get is not desired by me.
It seems my flute wants to hold on to my music
What I capture does not have my music anymore.
What I want I mistakenly want , What I get I don’t want.