Road-Song of the Bandar-Log | 丛林之书

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Here we go in a flung festoon,

Half-way up to the jealous moon!

Don't you envy our pranceful bands?

Don't you wish you had extra hands?

Wouldn't you like if your tails were -- so --

Curved in the shape of a Cupid's bow?

Now you're angry, but -- never mind,

Brother, thy tail hangs down behind!

Here we sit in a branchy row,

Thinking of beautiful things we know;

Dreaming of deeds that we mean to do,

All complete, in a minute or two --

Something noble and wise and good,

Done by merely wishing we could.

…

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Road-Song of the Bandar-Log
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