God Save Us From People

I Recall Drinking Sherry In California And Dreaming Of England, Where I Ate Dalmoth And Dreamed Of Delhi. What Is The Purpose, I Wonder, Of All This Restlessness? I Sometimes Seem To Myself To Wander Around The World Merely Accumulating Material For Future Nostalgias.

There Are Plenty Of Good Indian Writers In English, And None Of Us Feel We Are Carrying The Burden Of Being A Poster Boy.

Is It Not Love That Knows How To Make Smooth Things Rough And Rough Things Smooth?

Everyone Sort Of Sees His Own Life And Times As Being Ephemeral. One Thinks That Everything Good Or Important That Happened, Happened In The Past. But I Think That Seeing Scenes That You Are Used To, But With The Heightening Effects Of Poetry, Perhaps Makes You Value Your Life And Times More Than You Might Otherwise Do.

Quietly They Moved Down The Calm And Sacred River That Had Come Down To Earth So That Its Waters Might Flow Over The Ashes Of Those Long Dead, And That Would Continue To Flow Long After The Human Race Had, Through Hatred And Knowledge, Burned Itself Out.