All these I loved This dancing of the light on the leaves This playing of the wild winds Among the sal groves They have all maddened my mind Along this red-earth road That man going to the village market The little girl sitting on the dust Playing alone with her tray of toys Whatever I see before me They all make music in my eyes. Mine is only a bamboo flute And I play only rustic tunes An earthly bond of this dusty earth Has bound my mind I have borrowed my view From the views of those boys I have set my tunes To the tunes of those boys Who have drunk the lights Flowing from the blue of the skies. Whenever I want to go to a far away place They crowd around me to dissuade The village sky waving rustic flowers Beckons me back I am yet to exhaust whatever is near And whatever is sweet So I don’t hanker after Whatever is far All these titbits I am yet to find Their farthest limits I am yet to finish my songs Of these ordinary things. So wherever I go This only I sing How much they have pleased How they have held me in a spell Day and night I have no time To do anything else My eyes are drowned Drowned is my mind Don’t call me It’s of no use – Let others aim something big Let them gather more and more Let me rove Let me sing I don’t want to be someone big.SourceThe script ran 0.006 seconds.
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