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Updated: July 25, 2025
About this poem of my eighteenth year let me set down here what I wrote in a letter when I was thirty: When I began to write the Bhagna Hriday I was eighteen neither in my childhood nor my youth. This borderland age is not illumined with the direct rays of Truth; its reflection is seen here and there, and the rest is shadow.
I have not come across much of golden pollen in her lotus bank, but have nothing to complain of as regards the profusion of the sweet savour of good-fellowship. The Broken Heart While in England I began another poem, which I went on with during my journey home, and finished after my return. This was published under the name of Bhagna Hriday, The Broken Heart. At the time I thought it very good.
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