Calcutta nr. 111
The face of the desert drapes itself in cloud,
O fools ! that the verdure may spring from the dust,
(With) this line of verdure, & a patch of green, a goblet
And ruined abode, the heart in you is surely renewed.
The face of the land hath washed its cheek with the New Year's rain;
'T is the time when the broken heart in thee grows whole again.
See, here is a down-cheeked maid and a green grass plot and wine:
Come, fool, for the grass will spring from thy dust in a day or twain.