[Michael Cantor]

Travel
by Robert Louis Stevenson

I should like to rise and go
Where the golden apples grow;--
Where below another sky
Parrot islands anchored lie
And, watched by cockatoos and goats,
Lonely Crusoes building boats;--
Where in sunshine reaching out,
Eastern cities, miles about,
Are with mosque and minaret
Among sandy gardens set,
And the rich good from near and far
Hang for sale in the bazaar,--
Where the Great Wall round China goes,
And on one side the desert blows,
And with bell and voice and drum
Cities on the other hum;--
Where are forests, hot as fire,
Wide as England, tall as a spire,
Full of apes and cocoa-nuts
And the negro hunters' huts;--
Where the knotty crocodile
Lies and blinks in the Nile,
And the red flamingo flies
Hunting fish before his eyes,--
Where in jungles, near and far,
Man-devouring tigers are,
Lying close and giving ear
Lest the hunt be drawing near,
Or a comer-by be seen
Swinging in a palanquin,--
There among the desert sands
Some deserted city stands,
All its children, sweep and prince,
Grown to manhood ages since,
Not a foot in street or house,
Not a stir of child or mouse,
And when kindly falls the night,
In all the town no spark of light.
There I'll come when I'm a man
With a camel caravan;
Light a fire in the gloom
of some dusty dining-room;
See the pictures on the walls,
Heroes, fights and festivals,
And in a corner find the toys
Of the old Egyptian boys.


Comments:

Since criticism is not one of my gifts, I am simply going to give my personal history with the following poem. When I had just begun to read poetry, at about age 7, I was given "A Child's Garden of Verses". This poem enchanted me, and I date my ambition to travel from the day I read it. I immediately memorized the first four lines, and they stayed with me long after I had forgotten the book. In this internet age I was able to find the poem again -- and also to buy the book for 99 cents. I'll just add that a few years ago when I was standing virtually alone in Fatehpur Sikri (the weather being too hot for any tourist with brains), I felt that I had at last arrived "where among the desert sands/Some deserted city stands" . Here is the poem whose magic has never faded.