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...HYMN OF THE CITY by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT SOUL AND BODY by LASCELLES ABERCROMBIE THE LAST MAN: CONCEALED JOY by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES WHATEVER IS, IS RIGHT by SAMUEL LAMAN BLANCHARD TEMPER by CLARA EXLINE BOCKOVEN |