Java
Everywhere the fresh green of rice in the terraces, with the herons perched on the mud walls,
And the roads like tree-bordered bridges between the fields;
The huge ruins of the Hindu faiths, where meek Buddhas sit throned on broken lotuses:
The neighing of little stallions in silver-trimmed harness:
The straight backs and beautiful breasts of the smiling brown women:
The long hours after rice table spent reading behind the mosquito nets while the lizards watch from the ceiling:
Wild hill-nasturtiums thickly carpeting a pine wood:
The swaying of one's chair while the eight-man squads of bearers are racing one another down a narrow trail:
The tentacled cone of the Bromo rising out of the expanse of the Sand Sea:
Orchids and tree-toads.
And the roads like tree-bordered bridges between the fields;
The huge ruins of the Hindu faiths, where meek Buddhas sit throned on broken lotuses:
The neighing of little stallions in silver-trimmed harness:
The straight backs and beautiful breasts of the smiling brown women:
The long hours after rice table spent reading behind the mosquito nets while the lizards watch from the ceiling:
Wild hill-nasturtiums thickly carpeting a pine wood:
The swaying of one's chair while the eight-man squads of bearers are racing one another down a narrow trail:
The tentacled cone of the Bromo rising out of the expanse of the Sand Sea:
Orchids and tree-toads.
