The Garden Of Kama Kama The Indian Eros

A poem by Violet Nicolson, Lawrence Hope, Adela Florence Cory Nicolson (1865 – 1904)

The daylight is dying,

The Flying fox flying,

Amber and amethyst burn in the sky.

See, the sun throws a late,

Lingering, roseate

Kiss to the landscape to bid it good-bye.

The time of our Trysting!

Oh, come, unresisting,

Lovely, expectant, on tentative feet.

Shadow shall cover us,

Roses bend over us,

Making a bride chamber, sacred and sweet.

We know not life’s reason,

The length of its season,

Know not if they know, the great Ones above.

We none of us sought it,

And few could support it,

Were it not gilt with the glamour of love.

But much is forgiven

To Gods who have given,

If but for an hour, the Rapture of Youth.

You do not yet know it,

But Kama shall show it,

Changing your dreams to his Exquisite Truth.

The Fireflies shall light you,

And naught shall afright you,

Nothing shall trouble the Flight of the Hours.

Come, for I wait for you,

Night is too late for you,

Come, while the twilight is closing the flowers.

Every breeze still is,

And, scented with lilies,

Cooled by the twilight, refreshed by the dew,

The garden lies breathless,

Where Kama, the Deathless,

In the hushed starlight, is waiting for you.

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