The evening was lonely for me
  And I was reading a book 
    Till my heart became dry
  And it seemed to me
    That beauty was a thing 
      Fashioned by the traders in words.
  Tired, I shut the book
    And snuffed the candle.
  In a moment, the room
     Was flooded with moonlight.

Spirit of Beauty, how could you,
     Whose radiance overflows the sky,
       Stand hidden 
     Behind a candle's tiny flame ?
  How could a few vain words from a book
    Rise like a mist and veil Her, 
     Whose voice hushes the heart of the earth
       Into ineffable peace ?
  
   - Rabindranath Tagore, poet from India, 1861-1941
     English translation: Anonymous