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“I know who visits your dream, Dark One. Say her name. Her smile streaks like lightning through clouds of sleep. Śyāma, she has nothing with which to repay you. Such impatience, bihaṅga! Don’t wake my sleeping Śyāma. And you, moon, pour down your cold milk on the sun’s too early fire.” — Rabindranath Tagore
I know who visits your dream, Dark One.
Say her name. Her smile streaks
like lightning through clouds of sleep.
Śyāma, she has nothing with which to repay you.
Such impatience, bihaṅga!
Don’t wake my sleeping Śyāma.
And you, moon, pour down your cold milk
on the sun’s too early fire.