I dive down into the depth of the ocean of forms,

hoping to gain the perfect pearl of the formless.

No more sailing from harbor to harbor with this my weather-beaten boat.

The days are long passed when my sport was to be tossed on waves.

And now I am eager to die into the deathless.

Into the audience hall by the fathomless abyss

where swells up the music of toneless strings

I shall take this harp of my life.

I shall tune it to the notes of forever,

and when it has sobbed out its last utterance,

lay down my silent harp at the feet of the silent.

Rabindranath Tagore