Speak to me of youth, and breezes warmed by the sun <br />The breezes that falter down cool alleys <br />In the city built in the sun <br /> <br />Speak to me of flower vendors, and the beggar boys that run <br />The old ones who stagger through dusty roads <br />Of a city built in the sun <br /> <br />And I'll tell you of a hundred days when I wished all was well <br />Of the hours passed in fantasies <br />When my mind on thoughts would dwell <br /> <br />On greatest trains and rains and sounds of cricket games being won <br />of lotuses flames and evenings <br />In the city built in the sun<br /><br />Vera Sidhwa<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/tropical-city/
