(Composed in March 1989)

A pleasure it is to rove around –
Miles and miles through calm villages fair
Where coconut trees and tall palms abound.
A pleasure it is to breathe the rural air,
And sweet songs of various birds to hear.
I sat me down in the tamarind's shade,
A guitar in hand and heart full of cheer;
For I, whose years been long in cities spent,
Found these joys -- a blessing from heaven sent!
And I down on the tender grass me-laid.
I then beheld an eaglet being taught
By the eagle to soar!-- O for Vani's aid,
That I might learn to soar on wings of thought!

Sir, thou my friend and guide hast been;
Oft have we hours spent in dilettante chatter,
That thou must see me paint the rural scene
With words which perchance to thee might matter:-
Alone stood I atop a little hill
And beheld the light-blue sea lying still,
And saw the sun go down into the sea.
Not he who scaled the highest peak, not he,
Was filled with so much joy as I with awe;
Nor he, who stood on Westminster's bridge,
With awe as I with joy when I saw
Nature's bounty on Paraliyar bridge.
Alongside the bridge the canal didst flow;
And there were trees and trees and trees below,
And naught else. Then came a drizzle of rain,
Then the breeze and then the beauteous bow!
All these would make the saddest heart grow fain.

Then I on a circular fort me-found,
An old fort jutting out into the sea.
Standing there, meseemed I was a king self-crowned
With all cares banished and heart full of glee!
I saw the moon in the sky a-rising,
And catamarans in the sea a-sailing,
And espied a little village on the shore.
O, only one heart the sight to adore!
Then I towards the village thread mine way
Through coconut groves fenced by cactii.
And those twinkling stars which we call fireflies,
Above through the leaves of the trees didst fly;
And the sweet songs of the birds seemed to say
That this was none other than paradise.

What a sweet companion Solitude is --
And that too in a charming place like this,
Where dwells ever the spirit of poesy!
Her loveliness will never cease to be.
One moonless night she led me to the hill
Where I beheld the blue sea lying still.
There we sate, ah! How I love her company!
Through moth-eaten-holes in the tent of night,
Which we fondly call `the stars' on earth,
Seeps part of heaven's pure celestial light,
And shews her loveliness and all her worth.

Alas that my numbers to flow should cease...
But ah, I hope they shall thy self please...
Like the lily that in the valley blows,
Or like Oreads, those hill-born echoes,
Be awhile and fade away for ever.--
And ah! Sir, would we could ever be
Like two fine horses tethered together
To draw the golden chariot of poesy!