Dirge of the langurs

The Miracle of Purun Bhagat

The night we felt the earth would move 
  We stole and plucked him by the hand,
Because we loved him with the love 
  That knows but cannot understand.

And when the roaring hillside broke, 
  And all our world fell down in rain,
We saved him, we the Little Folk; 
  But lo! he does not come again!

Mourn now, we saved him for the sake 
  Of such poor love as wild ones may. 
Mourn ye! Our brother will not wake,
  And his own kind drive us away!


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