in the land of poppies when
red has turned like violent seas,
he came lonely with the nothing
of his mind: and the firey blaze
all uplined throughout, bursts
smiling: never he saw the mad
in such teeming fullness
spreading over a cojuring
charm afresh

he was free and had no shackles
save the void only-almost measureless -
in his shallow hands he has time's
unending pile, and unhurried
days-therefore, he counted-counted
until beauty's gathering hands
fade in a numberless strain-

so many times he counted and
so many times his brain failed
in magnificent puzzlement-
dozed and colour speckled, yet in
swooning scent, he tried again
to end up soon in vain losing his ways
in jungle of glories divine:

a foolish silence stood down here
so long, -perhaps thoughtless-
before him a life intensely rife,
bare- swinging like a dream;

no more he is now, not a bit
of his shadow-what flower of
life he took from hence, i do not know, or
perhaps being too empty,
in his way back might he at all
forget to carry him away -

Rites Ghosh

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/one-day-in-the-land-of-poppies/