At evening—and the fates

Have set no soothless canker at life's core.

I want to go back and mend my heart

Beneath the tropic moon,

While the tamarind-tree is whispering thoughts of sleep.

I want to believe that Earth again

With Heaven is in tune.

I want to go back to Penang! I want to go back!

I want to go back to Singapore

And ship along the Straits

To the bungalow I left upon the strand.

Where the foam of the world grows faint before

It enters, and abates

In meaning as I hear the palm-wind pour.

I want to go back and end my days

Some evening when the Cross

[Pg 19]

On the southern sky hangs heavily far and sad.

I want to remember when I die

That life elsewhere was loss.

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