THE SOURCE

 By: Rabindranath Tagore

The sleep that flits on baby’s eyes - - does anybody know from where it comes?

Yes, there is a rumour that it has its dwelling where, in the fairy village among shadows

    of the forest dimly lit with glow womans, there hang two shy buds of enchantment.

From there it comes to kiss baby’s eyes.

 The smile that flickers on baby’s lips when he sleeps --- does anybody know where it

     was born?

Yes, there is a rumour that a young pale beam of a crescent moon touched the edge

     of a vanishing autumn cloud, and there the smile was first born in the dream of a

     dew-washed morning the smile that flickers on baby’s lips when he sleeps.

 The sweet, soft freshness that blooms on baby’s limbs ---does anybody know where it

    was hidden so long?

Yes when the mother was a young girl it lay pervading her heart in tender and silent

     mystery of love – the sweet, soft freshness that has bloomed on baby’s limbs.