Autumn song

Like a joy on the heart of a sorrow, 

   The sunset hangs on a cloud; 
A golden storm of glittering sheaves, 
Of fair and frail and fluttering leaves, 
   The wild wind blows in a cloud. 

Hark to a voice that is calling 
   To my heart in the voice of the wind: 
My heart is weary and sad and alone, 
For its dreams like the fluttering leaves have gone, 
   And why should I stay behind?

by Sarojini Naidu

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