Capitolo 53
languidly bathing in the water and light of the sun of the reservoir. Also the
buffaloeses don't have anything to do but to be floating deeply the long day
dipped in the rushes of swamp. Everything is wet in rest. The bees
you murmur their idylls among the flowers; about the doves are complained them loving
complaints from the shady leafage of trees of pipal; out of the coolness
interruptions of sources the inactive one cooing some pigeons ascends in the
air to pass the summer-position; the chameleonic sleeps and rainbow-fed on the branch;
the enamelleds stick out on the leaf; the small fish in the sparkling one
depth under; the martin radiant fisherman, trembling as light of the sun, in
mean-air; and the peacock, with glories furled on the tower of temple of
the of the silent ones. Between this easeful and the sweet shine the inhabitant of a village
he/she works and it starves.
Reams of insipidities of hiccoughing lodged in I pigeon-puncture her of the House
Office from all the employees of gentlemen and growers of gentlemen of the world
you/he/she cannot arrange this. While the inhabitant of an Indian village has to maintain the
glorious phantasmagoria of an imperial policy, while he has to sustain
legions of scarlet soldiers, gilded chuprassieses redden politicals,
and you commission green, he has to remain the hunger-stricken one, tired
ghost that he is.
While the eagle of rides of Thought the storm in contempt,
Who takes care of if the lightning is burning the corn?
If Old England will maintain his/her throne and his/her boasting in ours
Enormous east she should pay on as a--the man, I was about to say; for,
according to the old proverb of Sanscrit, "you cannot find anything for
nothing and little deuced for a halfpenny." These not retribuito*-for glories
not harbors nothing but the shame.
But also the Indian and poor grower has his/her joys under of the clouds of
Income Boards and Committees of Famine. If we look from next to his/her life
we can see a soft glory that he/she remains on him. I am not the Mr. Caird, and I do