Last Poems 11.
Last Poems 11 By the shore of the River Roop-naran I woke and knew this world was not a dream. In blood-letters I saw my own form and knew myself in wound upon wound, pain after pain. Truth is hard-- hardness I have loved-- it won't deceive. Till death, this life, the ascetic act, to earn truth's terrible value, to pay back all loans in death. 13 May 1941 (3:15 a.m.) Shantiniketan
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Translated from Bengali by Wendy Barker and Saranindranath Tagore