On the green bench someone is already sitting and now I am on another under the green neem tree. Kids are up on their green swings discussing school politics. A man in green lungi is dancing his limbs to perfection.
In the morning I thought of a stern Hardy whose Ah ,No comes every sixth line . Wind and rain come too quickly and too often. Like hei ho in Kurt’s slip-stick. A ballad has to have a refrain and in any case happiness is episodic in character in a general drama of pain. That was what the Mayor said in his novel. Ah, No.
They sing their dearest songs—
He, she, all of them—yea,
Treble and tenor and bass,
And one to play;
With the candles mooning each face. . . .
Ah, no; the years O!
How the sick leaves reel down in throngs
(Wind and Rain : A poem by Thomas Hardy)