HYMNID

O Lazy me, O lazy me
under a tree I sit
while I compose
my lazy prose
(slowly & bit by bit)

I have no hurry, no hurry
(for) None awaits for me.
And I just love
to sit & write
under this Ficus tree:

Hurrah for me! For me
if it begins to rain
my shoeless feet
in muds I'll dip
(it will not've rained in vain)

Then restful Night, aeonian Night
Forevermore I too must keep.
Yet long as neath
this tree I sleep
I will not/cannot weep!

What dreams my mind must reap!
What ways won't I outstrip
(while atoms creep
& Worlds leap!
& dew-droplets) from drip to drip