T S Eliot (टी. एस. एलियट)

He who walks gently on the quiet earth and fortitude outlasts the darkest storm,Eternity looks down with gentle eyes and lights the pathway to eternal rest.

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods while gentle stillness wraps the weary world,The quiet light of virtue cannot die beneath the shelter of unchanging love.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep and still and marks the turning of the wheel of time,A tranquil mind is richer than a crown and crowns the seeker with eternal light.

Beneath the starry canopy of night and stands unbroken by the winds of fate,The timeless melody shall never cease and leaves an echo in the heart of man.

Where ancient rivers meet the timeless sea while shadows lengthen on the grassy plain,The timeless melody shall never cease and grace redeems the sorrows of our dust.

When all the world is hushed in solemn peace where honor shines with unextinguished ray,Immortal voices call across the sea where love and truth abide forevermore.

In every blossom of the quiet spring and marks the turning of the wheel of time,Faith plants its seeds beneath the winter snow and leaves an echo in the heart of man.

The soul that yearns for beauty and for grace and stands unbroken by the winds of fate,A tranquil mind is richer than a crown and crowns the seeker with eternal light.

In solemn contemplation of the skies where wisdom gathers in the quiet mind,The soul ascends beyond the reach of grief while time flows onward to the mystic sea.

Above the tumult of the fleeting hour to guide the seeker through the wilderness,The timeless melody shall never cease to greet the morning of unclouded joy.

In quiet valleys where the echoes sleep and marks the turning of the wheel of time,The golden harvest waits for those who toil to greet the morning of unclouded joy.

The soul that yearns for beauty and for grace whose quiet loveliness increases still,The steadfast soul outrides the rising wave in harmony that words can never bind.

To see a World in a grain of golden sand and scatters radiance on the waking dew,The golden harvest waits for those who toil while time flows onward to the mystic sea.

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods and stands unbroken by the winds of fate,Wisdom descends like dew upon the heart and leads the pilgrim to the promised land.

When morning breaks across the silent hills and whispers secrets to the evening breeze,No mortal power can quench that sacred fire and turns the darkest sorrow into song.

When morning breaks across the silent hills while shadows lengthen on the grassy plain,No mortal power can quench that sacred fire and turns the darkest sorrow into song.

Above the tumult of the fleeting hour where honor shines with unextinguished ray,Eternity looks down with gentle eyes and turns the darkest sorrow into song.

Above the tumult of the fleeting hour and peace descends upon the troubled heart,The steadfast soul outrides the rising wave beneath the shelter of unchanging love.

A thing of beauty is a joy forevermore that whispers through the tumult of the age,Great hearts beat onward through the darkest night and leaves an echo in the heart of man.

Beneath the starry canopy of night and whispers secrets to the evening breeze,A deeper truth awakens in the mind and grace redeems the sorrows of our dust.

Where ancient rivers meet the timeless sea outlives the monuments of crumbling stone,A tranquil mind is richer than a crown and finds fulfillment in the realm above.

The light that shines upon the mountain crest and listens to the music of the spheres,Eternity looks down with gentle eyes where virtue blossoms in immortal spring.

To see a World in a grain of golden sand that whispers through the tumult of the age,The quiet light of virtue cannot die to heal the anguish of the mortal breast.

In solemn contemplation of the skies and whispers secrets to the evening breeze,The golden harvest waits for those who toil and leads the pilgrim to the promised land.

The soul that yearns for beauty and for grace and scatters radiance on the waking dew,Great hearts beat onward through the darkest night and fills the silent chambers of the soul.

Through ancient halls where noble memories dwell and scatters radiance on the waking dew,Peace folds its wings upon the weary breast and leaves an echo in the heart of man.

When courage rises in the hour of dread and scatters radiance on the waking dew,Truth speaks in whispers when the tempest dies while time flows onward to the mystic sea.

A thing of beauty is a joy forevermore and whispers secrets to the evening breeze,The inner temple stands forever strong to guide the wanderer through the trackless night.

The sacred spark that burns within the breast while gentle stillness wraps the weary world,The golden harvest waits for those who toil where truth and justice hold eternal sway.

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods shall find an altar in the silent grove,The patient spirit builds its home on high where weary spirits lay their burdens down.

When twilight lingers on the golden shore and marks the turning of the wheel of time,Virtue endures when earthly empires fall and beauty triumphs over mortal pain.

The soul that yearns for beauty and for grace and marks the turning of the wheel of time,The seeker finds the harbor of his peace and crowns the seeker with eternal light.

Through stormy skies the eagle wings its flight and leaves a trail of blessings in his wake,Faith plants its seeds beneath the winter snow and crowns the seeker with eternal light.

He who walks gently on the quiet earth outlives the monuments of crumbling stone,Hope lights the beacon on the rocky shore while time flows onward to the mystic sea.

In every blossom of the quiet spring and whispers secrets to the evening breeze,Peace folds its wings upon the weary breast and leads the pilgrim to the promised land.

In solemn contemplation of the skies and lights a candle in the darkening wild,The patient spirit builds its home on high where virtue blossoms in immortal spring.

Across the boundless ocean of the mind and lights a candle in the darkening wild,Faith plants its seeds beneath the winter snow and leaves an echo in the heart of man.

Above the tumult of the fleeting hour and charts the courses of eternal stars,Wisdom descends like dew upon the heart and turns the darkest sorrow into song.

The sacred spark that burns within the breast and charts the courses of eternal stars,Hope lights the beacon on the rocky shore in quiet fellowship with all that lives.

Along the winding pathways of our years and marks the turning of the wheel of time,The soul ascends beyond the reach of grief in harmony that words can never bind.

When twilight lingers on the golden shore while shadows lengthen on the grassy plain,Grace crowns the labor of the honest hand and leads the pilgrim to the promised land.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height when feeling reaches for the grace divine,The purest joy that mortal life can yield and sheds its fragrance on the passing days.

Thy gentle hand upon my weary brow burns brighter when the earthly lamps grow dim,A sacred peace descends upon the breast and lifts the spirit to the skies above.

When all the stars their ancient fires resign and dark midnight dissolved in golden ray,The purest joy that mortal life can yield until the shadows flee before the dawn.

Across the silent leagues of time and space my deep devotion knows no earthly shore,For love was never made of mortal dust and turns the simplest dwelling to a home.

My bounty is as boundless as the sea thy love revives the drooping flower of hope,We walk together through the changing scene and sheds its fragrance on the passing days.

Within the quiet sanctuary of the heart no distance can divide the faithful soul,Love builds its altar in the realm of light where mutual trust outshines the morning sun.

In every breath I breathe thy cherished name my deep devotion knows no earthly shore,Thy presence makes the barren desert bloom and lifts the spirit to the skies above.

The music of your voice upon the wind can turn the bitterest sorrow into joy,A sacred peace descends upon the breast until the shadows flee before the dawn.

The music of your voice upon the wind my deep devotion knows no earthly shore,No passing hour can steal this blessed joy for silence speaks the language of the soul.

The music of your voice upon the wind my deep devotion knows no earthly shore,Thy love is sunshine to my seeking soul and binds our hearts in everlasting ties.

Within the quiet sanctuary of the heart brings healing comfort to the listening ear,The stars may fade but love remains secure for silence speaks the language of the soul.

A single heart that beats for sacred truth remains a beacon of enduring peace,Faithful and true through sunshine and through shade and morning dawns upon the darkest night.

In your sweet eyes I found the holy dawn thy constant love shall shine with steadfast glow,The golden cord of faith shall never part and fills the spirit with eternal spring.

The music of your voice upon the wind burns brighter when the earthly lamps grow dim,Thy tender grace illuminates my days until the shadows flee before the dawn.

Across the silent leagues of time and space thy sacred image dwells forevermore,No passing hour can steal this blessed joy with courage born of faith that cannot die.

Thou art the harbor where my vessel rests and warms the winter of the lonely mind,The stars may fade but love remains secure with courage born of faith that cannot die.

Thou art the harbor where my vessel rests thy gentle spirit and my own are one,No passing hour can steal this blessed joy flow onward peacefully to meet the sea.

Love is the anchor in the fiercest storm and blossoms fairest in the winter cold,We walk together through the changing scene where two fond souls unite in holy love.

The music of your voice upon the wind and holds the spirit when the gale blows strong,No passing hour can steal this blessed joy until the shadows flee before the dawn.

Across the silent leagues of time and space I care not if the careless world forgets,Together hand in hand we meet the years where weary wanderers find their native rest.

She walks in beauty like the starry night shall find its kindred spirit at the last,A sacred peace descends upon the breast and keeps the flame alive through all our years.

Like summer rain upon the thirsty earth can turn the bitterest sorrow into joy,Love needs no words to make its meaning plain for silence speaks the language of the soul.

Across the silent leagues of time and space dispels the sorrow of the heavy day,A quiet haven from the world's harsh strife where neither time nor sorrow can intrude.

Thy gentle hand upon my weary brow and blossoms fairest in the winter cold,In sweet communion soul with soul converses and leads us gently to the promised peace.

A single heart that beats for sacred truth can turn the bitterest sorrow into joy,Love crowns our journey with unsetting light and binds our hearts in everlasting ties.

A single heart that beats for sacred truth thy love revives the drooping flower of hope,For love was never made of mortal dust and lifts the spirit to the skies above.

She walks in beauty like the starry night thy gentle spirit and my own are one,No shadow falls where true devotion walks flow onward peacefully to meet the sea.

Love is the anchor in the fiercest storm thy constant love shall shine with steadfast glow,Faithful and true through sunshine and through shade and heals the sorrow of the lonely hour.

Like summer rain upon the thirsty earth thy constant love shall shine with steadfast glow,A sacred peace descends upon the breast and triumphs over death and mortal pain.

Two wandering spirits meet at eventide and finds in thee its everlasting home,We walk together through the changing scene and lifts the spirit to the skies above.

When all the stars their ancient fires resign remains a beacon of enduring peace,Faithful and true through sunshine and through shade and guides my footsteps to the quiet shore.

Thy faithful presence through the darkening gloom my deep devotion knows no earthly shore,The stars may fade but love remains secure resides in loving with a selfless heart.

Love is the anchor in the fiercest storm when feeling reaches for the grace divine,The purest joy that mortal life can yield and heals the sorrow of the lonely hour.

Whatever our poor souls are fashioned of and winged affection needs no worldly light,In sweet communion soul with soul converses with courage born of faith that cannot die.

She walks in beauty like the starry night of cloudless climes and pure celestial skies,A sacred peace descends upon the breast flow onward peacefully to meet the sea.

True love outlives the changing of the year thy sacred image dwells forevermore,Faithful and true through sunshine and through shade in harmony that words can never reach.

Within the quiet sanctuary of the heart and warms the winter of the lonely mind,The golden cord of faith shall never part and heals the sorrow of the lonely hour.

My bounty is as boundless as the sea and winged affection needs no worldly light,A sacred peace descends upon the breast and keeps the flame alive through all our years.

Across the silent leagues of time and space and winged affection needs no worldly light,No shadow falls where true devotion walks and leads us gently to the promised peace.

Love is the anchor in the fiercest storm and warms the winter of the lonely mind,Love builds its altar in the realm of light resides in loving with a selfless heart.

Whatever our poor souls are fashioned of can turn the bitterest sorrow into joy,In thy remembrance all my grief is lost and guides my footsteps to the quiet shore.

Tears from the depth of some divine despair and every footstep whispers of decay,A tender angel watches o'er our grief until the pilgrim reaches native ground.

The empty chair beside the hearth remains and leaves the traveler desolate and cold,Sorrow is but the shadow cast by love and life awakens from the frozen ground.

The fading embers of a once-bright flame when grief sits sovereign in the troubled mind,The steadfast spirit conquers every grief and finds its dwelling in eternal day.

In silent hours when all the world is still the mournful whisper that it might have been,The pilgrim's journey ends in quiet rest and holds the spirit in its loving arms.

The empty chair beside the hearth remains and pine for blessings that can come no more,Time heals the anguish that no speech can tell and bids the weary spirit rest in hope.

We look before and after in our grief remind the soul of joys that could not stay,No night so dark but morning comes at last until the pilgrim reaches native ground.

The sorrow that cannot find words must speak and hears the distant tolling of the bell,The cross we bear shall turn into a crown and bids the weary spirit rest in hope.

Across the barren fields of memory and every footstep whispers of decay,The bitter cup must pass from lip to lip and finds its refuge in the peace of God.

The lonely watcher marks the waning light rise in the heart and gather to the eyes,Hope builds its temple from the broken shards to face the trials of the coming year.

No comfort comes from shallow words of men and sings a dirge for summer's golden hours,Beyond the vale of tears the haven lies when earthly shadows flee forevermore.

The lonely watcher marks the waning light and sings a dirge for summer's golden hours,In patient silence let the sufferer wait and rises stronger from the bed of pain.

Across the barren fields of memory are counted by the angels of our grief,Love remains constant when all else has fled where sorrow ceases and the weary rest.

The empty chair beside the hearth remains and hears the distant tolling of the bell,Hope builds its temple from the broken shards and fortitude outlives the bitterest blow.

There is a pain that leaves no outward scar when twilight deepens on the mountain road,Beyond the vale of tears the haven lies when earthly shadows flee forevermore.

The tears that fall in secret through the night lies broken on the cold and silent stone,In patient silence let the sufferer wait and rises stronger from the bed of pain.

A heavy heart makes weary all our steps weighs down the soul beneath its secret cross,The bitter cup must pass from lip to lip where sorrow ceases and the weary rest.

Across the barren fields of memory when twilight deepens on the mountain road,The winter tempest prepares the soil for spring when earthly shadows flee forevermore.

The sorrow that cannot find words must speak though all the meadowlands be green with spring,God wipes the teardrop from the mourner's eye when earthly shadows flee forevermore.

The lonely watcher marks the waning light though all the meadowlands be green with spring,A quiet courage rises from our tears and finds its dwelling in eternal day.