James you take more vacation than a Frenchman in August!
Oh calm down. You know Americans have a problem using all their vacation days. Let me eat the bread of idleness for a week.
Here’s a poem to tide you over:
June Sunset By Sarojini Naidu Here shall my heart find its haven of calm, By rush-fringed rivers and rain-fed streams That glimmer thro' meadows of lily and palm. Here shall my soul find its true repose Under a sunset sky of dreams Diaphanous, amber and rose. The air is aglow with the glint and whirl Of swift wild wings in their homeward flight, Sapphire, emerald, topaz, and pearl. Afloat in the evening light. A brown quail cries from the tamarisk bushes, A bulbul calls from the cassia-plume, And thro' the wet earth the gentian pushes Her spikes of silvery bloom. Where'er the foot of the bright shower passes Fragrant and fresh delights unfold; The wild fawns feed on the scented grasses, Wild bees on the cactus-gold. An ox-cart stumbles upon the rocks, And a wistful music pursues the breeze From a shepherd's pipe as he gathers his flocks Under the pipal-trees. And a young Banjara driving her cattle Lifts up her voice as she glitters by In an ancient ballad of love and battle Set to the beat of a mystic tune, And the faint stars gleam in the eastern sky To herald a rising moon.
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