She <br /> <br />LIKE a serpent to the calling voice of flutes, <br />Glides my heart into thy fingers, O my Love! <br />Where the night-wind, like a lover, leans above <br />His jasmine-gardens and sirisha-bowers; <br />And on ripe boughs of many-coloured fruits <br />Bright parrots cluster like vermilion flowers. <br /> <br /> <br />He <br /> <br />Like the perfume in the petals of a rose, <br />Hides thy heart within my bosom, O my love! <br />Like a garland, like a jewel, like a dove <br />That hangs its nest in the asoka-tree. <br />Lie still, O love, until the morning sows <br />Her tents of gold on fields of ivory.<br /><br />Sarojini Naidu<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/indian-love-song/
