“Who are you, reader, reading my poems an hundred years hence?
I cannot send you one single flower from this wealth of the spring,
one single streak of gold from yonder clouds. Open your doors and look abroad.
From your blossoming garden gather fragrant memories of the vanished flowers
of an hundred years before.
In the joy of your heart may you feel the living joy
that sang one spring morning, sending its glad voice across a hundred years.”
– The Gardener, 1915
by Nobel Laureate Rabindranath Tagore.
A very old picture from my archives. It was taken with my Canon PowerShot A540. I remember the evening, when the clouds reached their peak of glory with their bright pink gold colors. I took a couple of shots then stood back to see the scene melt away.