Kamala Das - Summer in Calcutta

What is this drink but <br />The April sun, squeezed <br />Like an orange in <br />My glass? I sip the <br />Fire, I drink and drink <br />Again, I am drunk <br />Yes, but on the gold <br />of suns, What noble <br />venom now flows through <br />my veins and fills my <br />mind with unhurried <br />laughter? My worries <br />doze. Wee bubblesring <br />my glass, like a brides <br />nervous smile, and meet <br />my lips. Dear, forgive <br />this moments lull in <br />wanting you, the blur <br />in memory. How <br />brief the term of my <br />devotion, how brief <br />your reign when i with <br />glass in hand, drink, drink, <br />and drink again this <br />Juice of April suns.<br /><br />Kamala Das<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/summer-in-calcutta/