No, it is not yours to open buds into a blossom. Shake the bud, strike it, it is beyond your power to make it blossom. Your touch soils it. you tear its petals to pieces and strew them in the dust, But no color appears and no perfume. Oh, it is not for you to open the bud into blossom. He who can open the bud does it so simply. He gives it a glance and the life sap stirs through its veins. At his breath the flower spreads its wings and flutters in the wind. Colors flash out like heart longings, the perfume betrays a sweet secret. He who can open the bud does it so simply Tagore