If I toil all my life for a dream,
And I do get my dream;
If it is the envy of every dreamer;
If it has more colours than another’s dream;
If it has more music than another’s dream;
If it changes many hearts;
If it heats up many desires;
If it spurs every other dreamer,
Will my dream be won?
Which loner ever had a dream
Of which he was lone consumer?
Who would he crown with the wreath of dreams
In the kingdom of manifold bliss?
Which brood or mate to make up the sum
Which gone nothing remains?
A flute without a player,
A dessert without a guest,
A blossom without a gazer,
A loyal dog without a master…
Such is the quantum of pain
Gifts unused obtain.
One needs a mate to share the spoils
Of what little conquest one enjoys,
And if, God forbid! the nest be empty
Or the bed vacant of a mate,
Plenitude is to be rued forever
And leisure a thing of mortal dread.