12    


TAKE YOUR holiday, my boy; there are the blue sky and the bare field, the barn and the ruined temple under the ancient tamarind.

        My holiday must be taken through yours, finding light in the dance of your eyes, music in your noisy shouts.

        To you autumn brings the true holiday freedom: to me it brings the impossibility of work; for lo! you burst into my room.

        Yes, my holiday is an endless freedom for love to disturb.