Classic Poem

How I used to like to dance, Sir,
in the green wood of Vrindavan.
How I used to like to chatter, Lord,
as though I were a wild bird.

In the jungle I'm all alone,
the earth in darkness.
The cold storm rages,
and no one to cry pity.

A thousand times I became a corpse,
a thousand times awakened.
The knot of life keeps coming undone:
within, memory full of hope
takes on a thousand lives.

With the hope that you're not cruel
I'll come into the dark.
There I'll stop and set my heart
to dance for you.