I Am Contented Ill Make You Immortal In My Lines
I am contented I’ll make you—
Immortal in my lines.
Ardent learners shall raise questions
In college-classes
And eagerly inquire of us;
And young lovers derive their inspiration.
But, still I desire!
If I grow as a millionaire.
We have multimillion annual income
From import-export, or in foreign savings,
And or a business in food.
Starting from a mini-amount
As that Indian lady—
Gorgeous and rich,
Had begun just from few thousand rupees
And taken a room on rent.
And we would tour every new year
A new land.
You would wear that long white gown,
A maid would carry its hem
While descending the palace’s stairs,
Attending the dancing singing beggars.
And I would imagine ideas n’wer and h’gher,
In a lonely cottage as my office.
With an honest on-the-go youngman as my assistant,
And a witty widow
To serve us hot teas with buttered bread.
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