《飞鸟集》命运自选，我非得选不可

I cannot choose the best, the best chooses me.

It seems like a required reading from childhood, and when I read it before, I probably had the task of extracting good words and sentences, so no matter if I could understand it or not, whenever I saw shimmering waves, I would start copying. Now I think the blank space in poetry is the sexiest, maybe the authors intention was to depict a similar state of mind, maybe not, but because of the blank space, it may just collide with something you have recently experienced. Because I dont have good writing skills, the feeling that I cant portray myself happens to be portrayed here.

When I travelled to here and there, I was tired of thee, O road, but now when thou lead me everywhere, I am wedded to thee in love.

The world has kissed my soul with its pain, asking for its return in songs.

The bow whispers to the arrow before it speeds forth - "Your freedom is mine."

A mind all logic is like a knife all blade. It makes the hand bleed that uses it.

We live in this world when we love it.

...

These are all things that I used to completely ignore, but recently they happen to be related to something Im experiencing.

I just watched a documentary talking about India and Bangladesh, and WeChat Reading recommended this book to me, astonished to find that Tagore belonged to the same era as Xu Zhimos father.

(And WeChat Readings note-taking feature is really useful.)