Gitanjali

The sleep that flits on baby's eyes — does anybody know from where it comes?
Yes, there is a rumour that it has its dwelling
where, in the fairy village
among shadows of the forest dimly lit
with glow-worms, there hang two
timid buds of enchantment.
From there it comes to kiss baby's eyes.
The smile that flickers on baby's lips
when he sleeps — does anybody know
where it was born?
Yes, there is a rumour that a
young pale beam of a crescent moon
touched the edge of a vanishing
autumn cloud, and there the smile was first born
in the dream
of a dew-washed morning—the smile
that flickers on baby's lips when he sleeps.
The sweet, soft freshness that blooms on baby's limbs — does
anybody know where it was hidden so long?
Yes, when the mother was a young girl
it lay pervading her heart
in tender and silent mystery of love—the sweet,
soft freshness that has bloomed on
baby's limbs.
From Gitanjali by Rabindranath Tagore (p.61)