Gitanjali - Sunbeam:
Your sunbeam comes upon this earth of mine with arms outstretched and stands at my door the livelong day to carry back to your feet clouds made of my tears and sighs and songs.
With fond delight you wrap about your starry breast that mantle of misty cloud, turning it into numberless shapes and folds and colouring it with hues everchanging.
It is so light and so fleeting, tender and tearful and dark, that is why you love it, O you spotless and serene.
And that is why it may cover your awful white light with its pathetic shadows.