Obstinate are the trammels, but my heart aches when
 I try to break them.
 Freedom is all I want, but
 to hope for it I feel ashamed.
 I am certain that priceless wealth 
is in thee, and that thou art my best
friend, but I have not the heart to 
sweep away the tinsel that fills my room

 The shroud that covers me is a shroud 
of dust and death; I hate it, yet
hug it in love.
 My debts are large, my failures great,
 my shame secret and heavy; yet when
I come to ask for my good, 
I quake in fear lest my prayer be granted.

 -- Rabindranath Tagore