preparation sketches

                                          

What I am going to do with these my iceberg sketches, I don't know yet but they make me quite excited with many thoughts.

I boasted among men that I had known you. They see your pictures in all works of mine. They come and ask me, 'who is he?' I know not how to answer them. I say 'indeed, I can't tell.' They blame me and they go away in scorn. And you sit there smiling.

I put my tales of you into lasting songs. The secret gushes out form my heart. They come and aske me, 'Tell me all your meanings.' I know not how to answer them. I say, 'ah, who knows what they mean!' They laugh and go away in utter scorn. And you sit there smiling.   by Mr. Tagore