HAVE YOU found me, at last, O my Dream? Seven eons ago <br />You died and I buried you deep under forests of snow. <br />Why have you come hither? Who bade you awake from your sleep <br />And track me beyond the cerulean foam of the deep? <br /> <br /> <br />Would you tear from my lintels these sacred green garlands of leaves? <br />Would you scare the white, nested, wild pigeons of joy from my eaves? <br />Would you touch and defile with dead fingers the robes of my priest? <br />Would you weave your dim moan with the chantings of love at my feast? <br /> <br />Go back to your grave, O my Dream, under forests of snow, <br />Where a heart-riven child hid you once, seven eons ago. <br />Who bade you arise from your darkness? I bid you depart! <br />Profane not the shrines I have raised in the clefts of my heart.<br /><br />Sarojini Naidu<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-dead-dream/
