They tell me I must bruise
The rose's leaf,
Ere I can keep and use
Its fragrance brief.
They tell me I must break
The skylark's heart,
Ere her cage song will make
The silence start.
They tell me love must bleed,
And friendship weep,
Ere in my deepest need
I touch that deep.
And I ask, must it always be so
With precious things?
Must they always be bruised and go
With beaten wings?
"Ahh, yes boy! by crushing days,
By caging nights, by scar
Of thorn and stony ways,"
Life tells me, "these blessings are!"
"The mark of rank in nature
is capacity for pain;
And the anguish of the singer
Makes for the sweetest symphony strain."
Farewell Chennai. Mumbai here I come for good~!
