Indias Love Lyrics | Page 3

your feet and let you go.
The Teak Forest
Whether I loved you who shall say?
Whether I drifted down your way


In the endless River of Chance and Change,
And you woke the
strange
Unknown longings that have no names,
But burn us all in
their hidden flames,
Who shall say?
Life is a strange and a wayward thing:
We heard the bells of the
Temples ring,
The married children, in passing, sing.
The month of
marriage, the month of spring,
Was full of the breath of sunburnt
flowers
That bloom in a fiercer light than ours,
And, under a sky
more fiercely blue,
I came to you!
You told me tales of your vivid life
Where death was cruel and
danger rife--
Of deep dark forests, of poisoned trees,
Of pains and
passions that scorch and freeze,
Of southern noontides and eastern
nights,
Where love grew frantic with strange delights,
While men
were slaying and maidens danced,
Till I, who listened, lay still,
entranced.
Then, swift as a swallow heading south,
I kissed your mouth!
One night when the plains were bathed in blood
From sunset light in
a crimson flood,
We wandered under the young teak trees
Whose
branches whined in the light night breeze;
You led me down to the
water's brink,
"The Spring where the Panthers come to drink
At
night; there is always water here
Be the season never so parched and
sere."
Have we souls of beasts in the forms of men?
I fain would
have tasted your life-blood then.
The night fell swiftly; this sudden land
Can never lend us a twilight
strand
'Twixt the daylight shore and the ocean night,
But takes--as it
gives--at once, the light.
We laid us down on the steep hillside,

While far below us wild peacocks cried,
And we sometimes heard, in

the sunburnt grass,
The stealthy steps of the Jungle pass.
We
listened; knew not whether they went
On love or hunger the more
intent.
And under your kisses I hardly knew
Whether I loved or
hated you.
But your words were flame and your kisses fire,
And who shall resist
a strong desire?
Not I, whose life is a broken boat
On a sea of
passions, adrift, afloat.
And, whether I came in love or hate,
That I
came to you was written by Fate
In every hue of the blood-red sky,

In every tone of the peacocks' cry.
While every gust of the Jungle night
Was fanning the flame you had
set alight.
For these things have power to stir the blood
And compel
us all to their own chance mood.
And to love or not we are no more
free
Than a ripple to rise and leave the sea.
We are ever and always slaves of these,
Of the suns that scorch and
the winds that freeze,
Of the faint sweet scents of the sultry air,
Of
the half heard howl from the far off lair.
These chance things master
us ever. Compel
To the heights of Heaven, the depths of Hell.
Whether I love you? You do not ask,
Nor waste yourself on the
thankless task.
I give your kisses at least return,
What matter
whether they freeze or burn.
I feel the strength of your fervent arms,

What matter whether it heals or harms.
You are wise; you take what the Gods have sent.
You ask no question,
but rest content
So I am with you to take your kiss,
And perhaps I
value you more for this.
For this is Wisdom; to love, to live,
To
take what Fate, or the Gods, may give,
To ask no question, to make
no prayer,
To kiss the lips and caress the hair,
Speed passion's ebb
as you greet its flow,--
To have,--to hold,--and,--in time,--let go!
And this is our Wisdom: we rest together
On the great lone hills in

the storm-filled weather,
And watch the skies as they pale and burn,

The golden stars in their orbits turn,
While Love is with us, and
Time and Peace,
And life has nothing to give but these.
But,
whether you love me, who shall say,
Or whether you, drifting down
my way
In the great sad River of Chance and Change,
With your
looks so weary and words so strange,
Lit my soul from some hidden
flame
To a passionate longing without a name,
Who shall say?
Not I, who am but a broken boat,
Content for a
while to drift afloat
In the little noontide of love's delights
Between two Nights.
Valgovind's Boat Song
Waters glisten and sunbeams quiver,
The wind blows fresh and free.
Take my boat to your breast, O River!
Carry me out to Sea!
This land is laden with fruit and grain,
With never a place left free for flowers,
A fruitful mother; but I am
fain
For brides in their early bridal hours.
Take my boat to your breast, O River!
Carry me out to Sea!
The Sea, beloved by a thousand ships,
Is maiden ever, and fresh and free.
Ah, for the touch of her cool green
lips,

Carry me out to Sea!
Take my boat to your breast, dear River,
And carry it out to Sea!
Kashmiri Song by Juma
You never loved me, and yet to save me,
One unforgetable night you
gave me
Such chill