Author: Tagore
If I become a golden flower,
Just for fun, growing on the high branches of that tree,
Laughing and trembling in the wind,
Dancing on the new leaves again,
Mom, will you know me?
If you cry and say, "Where are you, son?" "
I secretly laughed there, but I was silent.
I will quietly open my petals and watch you work.
When taking a bath, my wet hair falls over my shoulders and passes through the golden flowers shaded by green trees.
When you go to the small courtyard of prayer, you will smell the fragrance of this flower.
But I didn't know the smell came from me.