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“You have done well, o pitiless one, in scorching my heart, Until incense is burned, it does not pour out its fragrance, Until a lamp is lit, it does not give out its light” — Tagore; Rabindranath
You have done well, o pitiless one, in scorching my heart,
Until incense is burned, it does not pour out its fragrance,
Until a lamp is lit, it does not give out its light