O I AM tired of painted roofs and soft and silken floors, And long for wind-blown canopies of crimson @3gulmohurs!@1 O I am tired of strife and song and festivals and fame, And long to fly where cassia-woods are breaking into flame. Love, come with me where koels call from flowering glade and glen, Far from the toil and weariness, the praise and prayers of men. O let us fling all care away, and lie alone and dream 'Neath tangled boughs of tamarind and @3molsari@1 and @3neem!@1 And bind our brows with jasmine sprays and play on carven flutes, To wake the slumbering serpent-kings among the banyan roots, And roam at fall of eventide along the river's brink, And bathe in water-lily pools where golden panthers drink! You and I together, Love, in the deep blossoming woods Engirt with low-voiced silences and gleaming solitudes, Companions of the lustrous dawn, gay comrades of the night, Like Krishna and like Radhika, encompassed with delight. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BIRDS OF VIETNAM by HAYDEN CARRUTH CHERRY BLOSSOMS BLOWING IN WEST BLOWING SNOW by JAMES GALVIN DOMESTIC SONG by DAVID IGNATOW WE CAN'T WRITE OURSELVES INTO ETERNAL LIFE by DAVID IGNATOW FLEMING HELPHENSTINE by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |