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Rabindranath Tagore - Palm Tree
Work rating: Low

Palm-tree: single-legged giant,
           topping other trees,
             peering at the firmament -
It longs   to pierce the black cloud-ceiling
           and fly away, away, 
             if only it had wings.

The tree   seems to express its wish
           in the tossing of its head:
             its fronds heave and swish -
It thinks, Maybe my leaves are feathers,
           and nothing stops me now
             from rising on their flutter.

All day    the fronds the windblown tree
           soar and flap and shudder
             as though it thinks it can fly,
As though  it wanders in the skies,
           travelling who knows where,
             wheeling past the stars -

And then   as soon as the wind dies down,
           the fronds subside, subside:
             the mind of the tree returns.
To earth,  recalls that earth is its mother:
           and then it likes once more
             its earthly corner.
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