But would you guess that it was the tiny shadow of your little child?
When in the evening you went to the cow-shed with the lighted lamp in your hand, I should suddenly drop on to the earth again and be your own baby once more, and beg you to tell me a story.
"Where have you been, you naughty child?"
"I won't tell you, mother." That's what you and I would say then.
[from a drawing by Abanindranath Tagore]
FAIRYLAND
IF people came to know where my king's palace is, it would vanish into the air.
The walls are of white silver and the roof of shining gold.