Freedom-bound 

Frown and bolt the door and glare 
    With disapproving eyes, 
Behold my outcaste love, the scourge 
    Of all proprieties. 
To sit where orthodoxy rules 
    Is not her wish at all - 
Maybe I shall seat her on 
    A grubby patchwork shawl. 
The upright villagers, who like 
    To buy and sell all day, 
Do not notice one whose dress 
    Is drab and dusty-grey. 
So keen on outward show, the form 
    Beneath can pass them by - 
Come, my darting, let there be 
    None but you and I. 
When suddenly you left your house 
    To love along the way, 
You brought from somewhere lotus honey 
    In your pot of clay. 
You came because you heard I like 
    Love simple, unadorned - 
An earthen jar is not a thing 
    My hands have ever scorned. 
No bells upon your ankles, so 
    No purpose in a dance - 
Your blood has all the rhythms 
    That are needed to entrance. 
You are ashamed to be ashamed 
    By lack of ornament - 
No amount of dust can spoil 
    Your plain habiliment. 
Herd-boys crowd around you, street-dogs 
    Follow by your side - 
Gipsy-like upon your pony 
    Easily you ride. 
You cross the stream with dripping sari 
    Tucked up to your knees - 
My duty to the straight and narrow 
    Flies at sights like these. 
You take your basket to the fields 
    For herbs on market-day - 
You fill your hem with peas for donkeys 
    Loose beside the way. 
Rainy days do not deter you - 
    Mud caked to your toes 
And kacu-leaf upon your head,
    On your journey goes. 
I find you when and where I choose, 
    Whenever it pleases me - 
No fuss or preparation: tell me,
    Who will know but we? 
Throwing caution to the winds, 
    Spurned by all around, 
Come, my outcaste love, O let us 
    Travel, freedom-bound.