In The Forest

HERE, O my heart, let us burn the dear dreams that are dead,
Here in this wood let us fashion a funeral pyre
Of fallen white petals and leaves that are mellow and red,
Here let us burn them in noon's flaming torches of fire.


We are weary, my heart, we are weary, so long we have borne
The heavy loved burden of dreams that are dead, let us rest,
Let us scatter their ashes away, for a while let us mourn;
We will rest, O my heart, till the shadows are gray in the west.

But soon we must rise, O my heart, we must wander again
Into the war of the world and the strife of the throng;
Let us rise, O my heart, let us gather the dreams that remain,
We will conquer the sorrow of life with the sorrow of song.

by Sarojini Naidu

Comments (4)

Love the poem and wonder could it not be written by a woman as well? Because the feeling is universal to both males and females? What do you think?
Love this and wonder, couldn't it be a woman waiting just as it could be a man? It tells a story from either perspective to me. what do you think?
Love the intensity of this poem. A heart longing for lost love trying to endure its absence.... Wrapped in aches and pains...... Beautiful write.
i understand(?) how this poor man is just waiting at his fire for his loved one to enter the door again. what draws me to his story is that he seems very persevering in his patience. he' s loyal. and how often in life does loyal get paired with the unloyal? and for what reason? because lovers are so loving that nothing, even a polar shift in personalities can strip the love of remembering. and these will last forever and are worth all the patience in the world.